


When In Hell

by SouthJerseySam



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series), Helluva Boss (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, Human, Humans in Hell (Hazbin Hotel), M/M, Multi, Original Character(s), Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:08:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 76,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26352433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SouthJerseySam/pseuds/SouthJerseySam
Summary: When a portal is opened up in his home, Eric finds himself in Hell. Lost and confused, he comes across a hotel out of sheer luck. But that luck can only go so far when he meets the inhabitants and goes through numerous obstacles. Only time will tell how long he can last...(Potential crossover with Helluva Boss and eventual shipping as the story progresses)
Comments: 92
Kudos: 88





	1. Ground Floor: The Underworld...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first fanfic I have written and posted on this site, so bear with me if I make a few changes here and there.

### Chapter 1 - Ground Floor, The Underworld…

It all happened so fast. One minute, Eric was coming home from work while holding his own bag of equipment and personal items. Then the next minute he’s falling into an unknown location. Whatever the reason, however it happened, he was still plummeting down to uncertain doom. As he fell further and further, he was certain this was his untimely demise. He shut his eyes and shielded his face with his arms across, bracing for impact.

As sudden as the fall was, the impact was practically instantaneous. Eric found himself in a large pile of garbage bags, feeling every piece of junk nearly fracture his body. With a bit of struggle, he climbed off the mountain of trash bags and found himself on his own two feet, albeit strained and slightly injured from the drop. He looked around and saw his bag a few feet away from where he fell and inspected for any damage. Inside his bag were two pairs of pants, a safety green t-shirt, a black long sleeve polyester shirt, a spare pair of socks, a small bag of spare USB chargers with wall plugs, a small medkit, work gloves, a bottle of water unopened, and a bag of honey roasted peanuts with a paperclip keeping it closed. Confirming everything inside was still in decent condition, he zipped his bag up and placed it next to his feet as he adjusted himself.

Eric dusted off his white t-shirt, stained from both the dust from his work to the debris from the garbage he fell on. His denim jeans were just as dirty but were still in decent condition. He brushed his face off, feeling a few cuts on his face from the fall, scratching at his goatee in the process. His hair, which was already a mess for being almost shoulder-length, was hardly affected. The only issue he had was a small bruise on the back of his head. He shook his arms out and kicked his legs out, as he found no damage or severe sprains from his fall. He then picked up his bag and decided to take a walk.

Eric found himself within a large alleyway, looking darker than any normal alleyway. As he came out to an opening, he managed to catch a glimpse of his current location, which was surprising, to say the least. Just one look was hardly enough to take in the entire set before him. A plethora of sleazy businesses, creatures of different shapes and sizes walking and talking, pentagrams, and satanic references that would mentally scar even the most casual Christian. The biggest surprise came from the amount of red hue that was shining all over the place. Eric looked up to see a spherical pentagram up in the sky, emitting the crimson shine that spread throughout the town.

Eric was wide-eyed and gobsmacked at the sight set before him, completely stunned by the new setting all around. A brief sense of amazement, followed by dread, and then fear. The feelings would be accompanied by the scent of smog, garbage, and even fire. This was more than what he was used to with big cities back on Earth. There was no denying the situation; He’s in Hell. There were so many questions running through his mind; How could this have happened to him? How was he even still alive? Is this what Hell looked like all this time or is there more that he might be missing? How could he be sent to Hell if he isn’t even dead yet? Was there something he missed?

His mind was going into a frenzy just thinking about this whole situation he was in, barely keeping his balance. He was ready to fall over when he placed his hand on a nearby wall. His thoughts were interrupted when he felt something strange placed on the wall itself. The dead center of the wall, surrounded by various pieces of profane graffiti and carvings, was a small poster that looked crudely drawn. It looked like something made by Tim Burton, albeit more dark and demented. He took the paper off the wall and examined it closely. He noticed a strange figure with a gangly figure, frizzy hair with a pair of antlers, all while bearing large eyes and a huge grin with what looked like razor-sharp teeth. Beneath him were creatures that looked similar to the denizens that he saw, yet their faces resembled that of fear, pain, agony, and death. And it was all capped off with crude handwritings surrounding the poster.

**BEWARE!!!!! HIM!!!**

**DO NOT FUCK WITH HIM!**

**STAY AWAY!**

**THE RADIO DEMON!!**

It was practically unsettling reading the poster itself, but it was more unsettling to see numerous copies of the poster spread throughout the alleyway. Even a few flew past his legs on the ground. Whoever this Radio Demon was, he sure as shit wasn’t meant to be taken lightly. Then again, being in Hell wasn't going to be easy to begin with… His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a trash can lid dropping to the ground. He turned around and saw a scraggly rat demon scavenging around a trash can. In fact, there were numerous demons beginning to flood the alleyway, each looking worse than the other. One demon that resembled a coyote looked like he was suffering from leprosy. He was digging into a trash can while the rat demon was scavenging next to him. Before Eric could be spotted, he ran towards the pile of trash bags and hid out of sight as best as he could.

"Christ, I need my fix… I thought I left my stash in one of these cans…"

"What stash? You use up your shit so much and get so fucked up, you'd be out for days."

"Fuck off, man! I need my shit! I know I had it!"

Eric peeked around the side to try and find a good moment to sneak out, only to see more creatures stumbling around. This was going to be more of a challenge than he anticipated, especially with the smell of the trash bags getting worse. He looked back at the two demons scavenging, noticing the coyote demon staring dead straight into the rat demon, his red eyes looking on with a slight twitch.

"You took my shit, didn't you?"

"What?! I don't need to get jaded on your bullshit! I've hardly touched any drugs!"

"YOU FUCKIN' LIAR!"

Eric was surprised to see the coyote demon just pounce on the rat demon like an actual wild animal, despite both of them being the same size. It started as a fistfight, with a tussle between the two. But then it got dirty when the rat kicked the coyote in the groin. Hunched over, the coyote took a moment to breathe, but then looked up at him with his red eyes and a murderous look on his face. Eric hid away quickly to avoid being seen. Then out of nowhere, the coyote demon lunged after the rat demon and speared him towards the trash bag pile. The two were within a few feet from Eric, as he tried his best to be kept out of sight. He took a risk by getting between the bags and the neighboring wall, trying not to gag at the smell. The coyote demon grabbed the rat demon by the throat then bared his fangs at him.

"YOU FUCKIN’ STOLE MY SHIT, YOU RAT FUCK!"

And just like that, the coyote demon sank his fangs into the rat demon's neck, tearing his throat out in a grisly fashion. The rat was gurgling and choked on his own blood, as his body began to weaken. The coyote demon chewed on the skin and veins like it was a piece of tough meat, blood dripping off his chin. Eric was holding his mouth shut to avoid puking at both the sight of blood to the smell of garbage behind him. The coyote was about to leave when he looked towards the wall and saw a pair of feet sticking out from the pile of garbage bags.

"HEY! WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?!"

Eric tensed up, hoping he wasn't spotted. The moment he saw the coyote demon stand and look at him with his crazed red eyes, he was proven wrong.

"A human?! A FUCKIN’ HUMAN?! WHERE THE FUCK DID YOU COME FROM?!"

Eric was frozen with fear, couldn't even flinch for a moment. His hands still holding onto his mouth, arms feeling stiff from holding his position. The coyote demon walked up to him with a crazed look and a wicked grin. Other demons followed him, looking at Eric with wide eyes.

"So, you were the one who took my shit, huh? You stole my stash?! DID YOU?!"

Eric was pinned against the wall, as the coyote demon slammed him hard by his shoulders. Eric could only quiver with fear, gasping a bit for air. He tried not to stare into the coyote's eyes but he was already in a tough spot. The other demons were looking on with anticipation, hoping to get in on the action.

"I'LL TEAR YOUR FUCKIN' NUTS OFF IF YOU DON'T GIVE ME MY STASH!"

"Hey, before you kill him, maybe we can have some fun with him. I've been itchin’ for some playtime!"

"I wanna harvest his organs! I've been dying for some fresh meat!"

Panic was hitting Eric like a hurricane, his heart plummeting into his stomach, all while feeling sick as a dog from the smell of blood and garbage. He tried to speak, only to let out a few gasps and a choked up cough. The coyote demon was getting impatient, as he slammed him against the wall one more time.

"I'LL KILL YOU RIGHT HERE AND NOW, YOU MOTHERFUCKER!"

A few drops of blood on the coyote's muzzle flew onto Eric's face, making it more uncomfortable than it needed to be. This was where he finally lost it. With one big cough, he upchucked all over the coyote's face. The vomit nearly burned his throat but it was worth it to get out of his grip. The amount of vomit was enough to temporarily obscure the coyote demon’s vision, as it gave Eric the chance to escape.

Grabbing his bag, Eric made a mad dash for survival, as the demons in the alleyway tried to attack or grab him. The one that was in need of “playtime” was given a swift kick in the balls, while the one who wanted his organs received an elbow punt in the face. Wasting no time at all, Eric ran through the alleyways in an attempt to escape.

“GET THAT FUCKIN’ PIECE OF SHIT! I WANT HIS ASS!”

The bellowing voice of the coyote demon nearly echoed within the alleyway, as Eric was practically being hunted by homeless demons all out for blood or sex. He passed by other demons that were either perplexed by his appearance, drugged up, drunk, or just passed out altogether. Only a select few were interested in chasing after him, but not before attempting to sober up from their own stupor.

Eric came up to what looked like a clearing, hoping it would give him an opportunity to get far away from the freaks. After coming out of the alleyway, he noticed most of the buildings were further away than before. But once he looked to his right, he saw a building just a few feet away. Not taking a chance to look it over, he takes a great risk and runs to the front entrance. Of course had he taken a second to look, he would’ve seen the large sight up front that said “HAZBIN HOTEL”

* * *

Upon entering the building, Eric carefully opened and shut the door, making sure not to slam it to attract attention. After closing the door, he took a second to notice the large apple shapes within the stain-glass windows on the door. His curiosity would be cut short once he saw the figures of the beastly bums that were chasing him. He ducked out of sight, making sure they couldn’t see him.

“Where the fuck is he?!”

“I think we lost him!”

“Damn, I was really fuckin’ hoping to get some dick action.”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP! We’ll split up and find him! You two go down the road, you two go towards the left and look down there. You come with me, we’ll check the alleyway again!”

Eric noticed one of them approach the doors, feeling his heart sinking lower. A short creature was getting closer and closer, then stopped to turn around.

“You think he went inside here, maybe?”

“In there? No way would he go in that fuckin’ place! Not with you-know-who running the joint…”

“Besides, he’d probably kill him the second he walks through the door!”

The small figure began to walk away from the door, sharing a laugh with the rest of the group as they left the area. The coyote demon was barking orders as they continued their retreat, allowing Eric to breathe a heavy sigh of relief. But the moment he turned away from the door, his relief was already cut short from the sight set before him. Inside he saw what looked like a rundown hotel lobby, with dark wallpaper and decor that looked like something out of Disney's Haunted Mansion ride. All in all, it felt almost unnerving to be inside. Even stranger were the portraits that hung on the walls near the registration desk. Each had shown various demons similar to the ones he saw earlier but a bit more dignified.

The one image that caught his eye was a portrait of one man and two women. The male on the right had pale white skin, rosy red cheeks, and blonde hair, bearing a large smile with sharp teeth. He wore a white tuxedo, held a cane with an apple on the top, and a small top hat with a snake wrapped around the brim. The woman on the left had a similar pale skin tone, long blonde hair, and two black horns sticking out from her forehead. She wore a deep purple gown that accentuated her figure and style. The young woman in between the two looked almost normal compared to the two but had dark spots under her eyes and nose, rosy cheeks like the male, and long blonde hair. Her outfit was a pale red suit with a black bowtie. And while the two were smiling, she was emotionally neutral.

His studying of the portrait was interrupted by the loud snoring sound. Quickly, he snapped around to see a demon sleeping behind a bar. The demon looked almost like a giant cat with large wings draped behind sloppily, a hat in his left hand, and a bottle of cheap booze in his right hand. Out of sheer luck (on Eric’s own behalf), the barkeep was dead drunk. Eric crept carefully towards the bar, making sure there was no one else around while carrying around his own “luggage”. No one seemed to be around the lobby except the barkeep, but he wasn’t taking any chances and took his time tip-toeing. He got closer to the bar and inspected the stock set behind the counter. Maneuvering around the drunkard, Eric grabbed a bottle of scotch and placed it into his bag, making sure not to make too much noise with the zipper.

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps was approaching from the staircase not too far away from the bar. Eric took a big risk and ran towards the nearest door he found. Reaching the door handle, he pushed the door open, slid his bag, and cautiously closed the door. The room was nearly pitch black as he watched from the crack on the door, the hinges creaked and the door shuffled ever so slightly. As he tried to move carefully, his hand inadvertently flipped on the light switch from off the wall. Eric’s heart nearly dropped before he breathed a silent sigh of relief after realizing his current location. The room was basically a small storage room, holding a few big boxes and some old brooms and mops. While not 100% spacious, it had enough room for him to maneuver around. Shutting the door as quietly as possible, he placed his bag over in the far corner of the room, behind a small stack of boxes and disassembled cardboard pieces. Then he crept back to the door and looked through the keyhole, which was enough to look through without being spotted. Through the keyhole, despite being small, Eric could see three figures come from where the staircase was, each one completely different from the other.

One was a small woman wearing a sort of frilly pink outfit, outlandishly red hair, and a large cyclops eye with a big smile with small sharp teeth. She was frantically running around the area, cleaning up the smallest spots with a feather duster. The other demon was an average-sized woman with gray skin, wearing a dress, a large pink bow on her head, and sporting a large X over her left eye almost like an eyepatch. She was chastising the third demon that was following her. The third demon was tall with a slender feminine figure with white fur, wearing a white suit top with pink stripes that exposed the noticeable bust of fluff, pink gloves, a small pair of black shorts, and black knee-high boots with heels. At first, Eric thought it was a woman, but the second it was talking back to the second demon girl, he was proven wrong. The third demon spoke like a man with what sounded like a New York accent. It was obvious that the two didn’t get along well from the woman’s berating tone and the man’s cackling.

The argument would cease when another figure would come up from behind the white demon, tapping him on the head with what looked like a microphone. Eric’s eyes widened when he finally got a good look at the new demon that had walked in. The figure had shaggy hair with two parts raised up vertically to look almost like ears, small antlers on the top of his head, a monocle on his right eye, sharp teeth within a wicked looking smile, a red suit with black pinstripes and a bowtie, and the microphone that he held like a cane. Thinking back to the posters he saw, he put the two together without hesitation; this was the one they called the Radio Demon. While it seemed far-fetched to think this person would pose a threat to anyone with the way he looks and his sophisticated mannerisms, even Eric knew that looks can be very deceiving…

As he looked on, he noticed another demon approach the group with an upbeat and excited bounce in her stance. Looking closer, he recognized her from the portrait in the lobby earlier. The young blonde demon girl, who looked almost sad in the picture, was practically hopping around like a little puppy. From what he could hear, it sounded like they were discussing renovations and clean up procedures. If he wasn’t trying to hide in an old closet, he’d try to listen in a little better. Before he could even attempt anything, he noticed the little demon dashing over towards him. In a panic, he carefully stood up and ran towards the back of the room to stay out of sight. He sat behind a set of boxes and brooms, clutching his bag as close to his chest as best as he could from the excessive weight. He kept one arm strapped around his bag and his free hand on his mouth to avoid making any noise. The door opened and the little demon girl began to hum as she looked around the closet.

As Eric tried to keep quiet and still, he heard little footsteps waltzing around with excited humming. From left to right, back and forth, he heard the frantic footsteps and humming getting closer and closer towards his area. He heard boxes being shifted around, indicating her search was getting somewhat irritable for her. He tried not to move but it was somewhat difficult with the boxes moving around near him. His foot was just an inch away from the broom itself, making sure not to make any noise. He had to find a way out of this. Then he heard her an exasperated sigh of what sounded like an aggravated little girl.

“Where the hell are my good brooms?”

With that, an idea popped into Eric’s head. He noticed the one broom close to his foot was nearly exposed off the side. But before he could do anything, he had to wait for the right moment. He heard more boxes being shifted around and opened, waiting for the right moment to make a move. Just had to be patient. He soon felt a box move away from over his head. That was his cue. He nudged the broom off the side, allowing it to plop down on the floor. This stopped any further box shifting and allowed the little demon girl to walk over to the noise. She spotted the broom and gasped with glee. Eric nearly chuckled at her response but kept himself quiet to avoid any attention. She grabbed the broom handle and yanked it away. The brush end of the broom smacked Eric on the forehead. He nearly made a painful grunt but set it close to a whisper from under his palm. The footsteps frantically stepped out of the closet, but not before the lights were shut off and a quick slam of the door.

Eric released his grip on his bag and his mouth, breathing a heavy sigh of relief. If that had gone any worse than what he had dealt with prior, he knew he would have been screwed. But then he thought of something else that was almost as urgent; HIS PHONE. He reached into his pocket and pulled it out, the home screen adding a little light into the darkness. To his surprise, his phone still had reception. However, he noticed the screen glitching slightly. Could’ve been a result of his fall to Hell earlier. Regardless, he silenced his phone before any obnoxious sounds or phone calls could blow his cover. Holding it close to his chest, he walks towards the door and looks through the keyhole once more.

Looking out, he could see the little demon girl sweeping the floors fanatically. Further out, he could see the other two female demons engaged in a conversation with the Radio Demon, going over more ideas. As they spoke, he noticed the Radio Demon himself looking over the two and seemed to be staring at him directly. Eric felt a bit concerned about his gaze, feeling completely uncomfortable even as he tried not to blink. It was almost as if he was looking within his soul, let alone his own hiding place. But soon the supposed concentration was interrupted by the demon woman with a bow, trying to get his attention. His gaze faded away and focused the conversation back with the two.

Eric was practically sweating, feeling the stress and anxiety weighing him down. As much as he wanted to escape, he knew he would get caught so easily. Even if he tried to run, where else could he go? What other location in Hell was safe? Who could be trusted? Millions of questions flooded his mind, all while keeping an eye out through the keyhole and waiting for the right moment to sneak out. The only other issue he had was his stomach growling. Out of all the things to nearly blow his cover, starvation had the worst timing. He patted his stomach in anger, hoping he could keep it quiet from anyone outside. He looked out through the keyhole to make sure no one heard it. Everyone was out and about, minding their own business. He silently sighed to himself, relieved that no one could hear the growling hunger.

* * *

It seemed like it took forever, although it was roughly thirty minutes, everyone in the lobby had cleared out one by one. The only person left was the barkeep, who had napped away behind the counter while holding his precious bottle of cheap booze. If there was ever a moment to take his leave, this was the best time. Taking off his boots, Eric carefully opened the closet door with the greatest of ease. The door creaked slightly, the hinges shifting slightly. He then closed the door and tiptoed his way towards the bar. He made sure the barkeep was still sleeping, gently waving his hand across his face. The barkeep shifted his head up, scaring Eric with a quick gasp, only to find he was just adjusting his wings and shifting his arms around. With a brief sigh of relief and annoyance, Eric continued down towards the nearest hallway.

Looking down the hallway, he saw several rooms with little to no numbers on them. Few hardly had any doorknobs on them. Tiptoeing further down the hall, he saw a set of double doors with two round windows. Looking around to make sure the coast was clear, he inched closer to the two doors and stood up to peer through. Inside, he could see the kitchen but was pitch black inside. He was somewhat relieved that no one was inside. The kitchen looked almost as big as the ones made for big restaurants or cooking classes, almost as well-kept as well. While it was a little difficult to see at the moment, everything looked like it was all off-white with a few silver or brass pots and pans. Feeling around on the wall, he felt a set of switches and flipped one of them. The room lit up halfway down the far end of the kitchen, allowing some light to show. From there he saw two large sinks and three dishwashers somewhat close together. There were also two wide refrigerators on each side of the kitchen, each about the size of two regular refrigerators, with smaller doors on the top and larger doors underneath.

Eric opened the first refrigerator close to him and cautiously opened it. Inside he could see the fridge was huge yet nearly empty from any food inside. The only things inside were a gallon of milk half empty, a bottle of champagne 2/3rds empty, some orange juice that was hardly enough for a cup, and three red containers full of leftovers. He opened the freezer to find barely anything inside except for an ice tray full of ice and an empty box for what looked like ice pops. Eric looked over the three sets of food containers and opened the one in the center. Inside was a rather rancid piece of fish half-eaten. He shut the lid before he gagged. The smell was almost worse than the garbage he smelled in the alleyway. He took the one on the left and saw an interesting set of jambalaya inside. He could smell the spices permeating, almost like it was recently made. But he put it back just to be safe. He liked spicy foods now and then, but it would probably give away his location if he would have a gas attack. He took the container on the right and opened it carefully. He smiled when he saw a familiar piece of food; baked ziti. He loves baked pasta now and then. Surely no one would miss it…

Looking around the countertops, Eric spotted a microwave nearby. It looked like it had been used frequently, due to some food stains and handprints all over the front of the window. Regardless, he placed the container inside and set the timer for three minutes. As he let it cook, he looked around for a cup. Searching a few overhead cabinets, he found only a few boxes of half-eaten food, plates, trays, etc. It took a while but he eventually found a cabinet full of glassware. Taking a standard tall glass, he walked over to the fridge and took out a handful of ice from the ice tray. Placing the tray down, he went to the sink and filled the rest of the glass with water. Inspecting the cup itself, he noticed how the water looked fairly clean inside. For Hell, it was pretty impressive…

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the microwave beeping. He walked over and took out the container from inside. He felt the heat built up inside, almost scalding hot all around. Carefully, he slid it out onto the counter and opened the lid. Steam escaped like a big puff of smoke, nearly blinding him as it filled all around him. He looked down and saw that the ziti had hardly been scorched, still remained intact despite the cheese melting a little more than it had before. He touched it gently and felt it was hotter than he had anticipated. Must be one powerful microwave to have here. He looked in one of the drawers and found a small set of utensils inside. He took a fork and was ready to dig in.

His meal was interrupted when the double doors burst open, revealing a tall white demon shuffling into the kitchen, wearing what looked like a black velvet robe. Eric froze in fear and panic, not sure what to say or do as he saw the demon walk in. Of course, by walking in, it was more of dragging its feet along the floor, his eyes barely open as he begrudgingly made his way to the fridge. Eric was worried about his presence, concerned about whether he saw him or could see him once he was done. The demon opened the fridge and looked all around inside through the bright lights and his squinted vision. His two upper arms scavenged while his lower arms lazily held the doors open. He grabbed the bottle of champagne and immediately shut the doors. He then shuffled his way out while taking a swig of the champagne. The moment the doors closed behind him, Eric breathed outward in a heavy sigh of relief before finally taking a bite of ziti.

* * *

The baked pasta may not have been a lot but it was enough to fill Eric up for now. He finished the glass of water and proceeded to clean up his mess. It was one thing to eat someone else's food but it was another to leave any evidence behind his existence. He took the ice tray and dumped out all of the remaining ice, then placed everything else inside the sink. He took a sponge, dabbed some dish soap, and proceeded to scrub up each item he used without hesitation. As he rinsed off everything, he thought he heard the sound of the door opening. He looked over and saw that the doors had not opened at all. Concerned, he walked over to the windows on the double doors, only to see no one outside. He cautiously walked back to the sink and continued cleaning up his mess.

As he was drying out the items he cleaned with a cloth he found, he looked all around to find where the container was placed, looking through more cupboards and eventually the drawers by his legs. When he opened the first drawer, he heard a sound and what almost felt like wind blowing behind him, like something that was running past him. He quickly turned around to see nothing, giving him a sense of fear and uncertainty. He tried to ignore it and continued placing everything back to where they belong. He looked in the first drawer he opened and saw more containers and lids inside and placed the ones he had inside.

Eric finished his clean up after placing the cup he had back inside the cupboard and began to make his way back to his hideout. He slowly opened the double doors and peered around both sides, then proceeded down the hall. As he tiptoed his way back, he could feel an unnatural sense of dread all around him, the hairs on the back of his neck practically standing up. He carefully turned around and saw nothing behind him, then turned back around and saw a large shadow on the wall to his left. He gasped and tried stifling his scream, as he witnessed a large insect crawling all over the wall. He looked around trying to find a way out, only to see that the insect's shadow was from a small cockroach clamoring on a light on the wall. He sighed in relief but then groaned in frustration from the biggest cliche he found himself in.

"A fucking cockroach? Really? What the fuck is wrong with me today?"

He walked down the hall again, hoping that that would be the only issue he had to deal with. As he made it back into the main lobby, he found that the barkeep was still dead asleep by the bar. That fella could sleep through a hurricane, thought Eric. He crept closer towards the bar, being as careful and quiet as he could. But still, he couldn’t help but feel like someone was watching him or even following him. Slowly, he turned his head around, finding nothing or rather no one following behind him. He looked down to see his shadow, somewhat faint, following close on his own heels as he crept. He had a moment of relief, but the hairs on the back of his neck were still standing. He couldn’t shake this feeling. He got closer and closer to the closet, read to just sleep off his stress until the next day. Cautiously, he opened the door. Slowly the door creaked open, shaking slightly from the rocky hinges. He peeked over to see the bartender was still asleep, thankfully. Without hesitation, he hopped in and slowly shut the door.

While the door remained shut, another figure was still standing by; Eric’s own shadow. From the front of the closet door, the shadow had remained still as it kept within the same shape as Eric. However, it suddenly began to transform into a bizarre-looking creature with the same features of the Radio Demon, a pair of evil eyes glowing red as a wicked grin formed and began to laugh in a ghostly tone. It then zipped and zoomed around the lobby, then shot itself into the fireplace as the embers grew brighter from its departure. All was still inside the hotel lobby, sake for a particularly drunken demon snoozing around the bar. Inside the closet, Eric had used his own bag as a pillow to rest on so he could sleep as best as he could. Little did he know of the dangers that lurked from outside his only safe place. Who knew what could happen inside this hotel?


	2. What Dreams Are Made Of

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While trying to get some sleep, Eric finds his dreams going out of his own control, from a source that's closer than he realizes...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everybody likes dream sequences, right? Well, this one's gonna be good because it's also a musical number! Two for one special, no extra cost!
> 
> Seriously though, I enjoyed working on this chapter. I really brought on a lot with this and I hope you all enjoy.

### Chapter 2 - What Dreams Are Made Of

The night was as calm as it could be. For Eric, it was decent enough for a quick meal and a good rest. Before sleeping, his mind was in a frenzy of what he could do to escape and where he could go for any form of shelter. But being a human in Hell was practically walking into a minefield. Just walking around the hotel was a huge risk without getting caught. There was no telling what his next step was but he had to think of something. His thoughts faded as his eyes began to lower and he let out a yawn. He finally succumbed to his slumber, hoping for a better tomorrow.

In the lobby, the cat demon drooled on the bar as he slept. The fireplace nearby faded away as the embers were dimming. As they were ready to dissolve into smoke, a small spark emitted from inside which then blew up into a huge flame that burst through the fireplace like a pyro effect. A large shadow came out of the flames, floating above the mantelpiece as its eyes were glowing red while bearing a wicked grin. It zipped down the hall and towards the closet door, as he zipped past the barkeep who slept through its travel. The shadow approached the closet and slipped through the keyhole, its body shrinking inside as it traveled through the narrow entrance.

The shadow squeezed inside, its red eye looked around to see no sign of Eric whatsoever. It squeezed through and carefully slunk around until it finally saw him sleeping on the floor. Its eyes shone through the darkness to see the human sleeping somewhat peacefully with his head resting on a black bag. His head shook around slightly, indicating that he might be dreaming. The shadow’s smile grew larger as it began to laugh quietly yet wickedly. It took its chance and whipped around the human’s head like a small cyclone, shrinking down towards the right side of his head. It spun out of its cyclone and peered near his ear and then zipped through his ear canal. Eric shook his head slightly, batting his ear like he heard a bug flying around. Unbeknownst to him, the shadow had crept inside his head and was now ready to infiltrate his mind and subconscious. There was no telling how much damage it could inflict…

* * *

Eric awoke with a cold sweat. He found himself back in his room at home. He was laying on his bed over his blanket, wearing his clothes from yesterday with his shoes still on. He wiped the sweat off of his forehead and rose out of bed. He walked over to his desk where his computer and phone were, opened his phone to see the time. The home screen bared **6:15 AM** in bold letters. He shut it off for a second and placed it in his pocket, then made his way out in the other room. Going through his small living room, he made his way to his equally small kitchen to grab something quick to eat. Opening the fridge, he saw a package of waffles and a splash of orange juice inside the jug. Taking both out, he popped the last two waffles in the toaster and just took a sip of the juice from the bottle itself.

As he waited for his waffles to toast, he heard sounds emanating from the other room. The sounds were almost like people talking but too faint to hear. He stepped out of the kitchen and into the living room, thinking someone was walking or talking down the hallway in his apartment. He walked to the door and peered through the peephole carefully. He looked out to see what looked like a blonde woman standing in the hall, her back facing his sight while her head was covered by her long blonde hair. While he could hear her talking outside, they didn’t match the sounds he heard. Confused, he walked back to the kitchen to check on his waffles.

He came back in to see his waffles had popped up from the toaster and looked decent enough to eat. He grabbed the two pieces and walked into the living room to eat. He sat on his mid-sized couch and sat in front of his 36-inch flat screen TV. He ate the first waffle whole while sipping on the last few drops of juice. He switched on the TV and was watching a brief news report. The newscaster was a young man with auburn hair and brown eyes, wearing a small pair of glasses and a maroon pinstripe suit. His most notable feature was his smile, practically stretched from ear to ear. Eric aimlessly watched the news, barely listening to the reports or even the graphics that were showing on the screen. He tried listening in at times but could hear a faint ringing noise in his head.

As he was about to bite onto the next waffle, he heard the sounds of chatter again. This time, they were more noticeable and somewhat closer. He walked to the door and looked through the peephole again, only to find no one outside his door. The sounds picked up again from far down the room, past his bedroom and kitchen. He walked down and moved towards his closet, as he heard the sounds emanating as he got closer and closer to it. The sounds were still indescribable, despite how loud they were as he got to the door. He gently turned the handle and opened the door slowly.

Upon opening his closet door, he found himself back inside the hotel again, as he stepped inside the lobby once again. There, he saw five demons standing by the reception desk; the young blonde, the gray woman with the pink bow, the tall white demon, the small cyclops, and the drunk feline with wings. They each were facing away from Eric but were still conversing with each other. Hesitantly, he slowly approached them. But just as he was a foot away from them, the conversation ended. An uncomfortable silence filled the room. Then the five began to slowly turn around…

Eric felt a sense of dread the moment he saw their faces, or what would be their faces. As they all turned around, he saw that each demon had radio dials for eyes and wide grins with yellow sharp teeth. Even the likes of the cyclops demon or the gray demon had a radio dial for their singular eyes. Their chatter came around again as the sound was more apparent. It wasn't chattering he heard, it was the sound of multiple radio stations being changed. He couldn't help but hear a familiar set of words being thrown together as the voices almost intertwined.

...IT'S…

...TIME…

...TO…

...KILL…

...IT'S…

...TIME…

...TO…

...DIE…

Eric felt his heart beating out of his chest, almost like a set of drums pounding in his rib cage. The sense of dread feeling imminent. He slowly backed away towards the closet. The demons hardly moved from their spot, still smiling at him. He felt his back against the wall, his hand erratically trying to grab onto the doorknob. He finally grabs it and proceeds to open the closet door. As he looks back before shutting the door, he notices the blonde demon gently waving at him. Mildly confused, Eric immediately shut the door and grabbed a nearby chair, and lodged it under the knob to keep it closed.

Eric was inescapably scared and confused over the whole situation, breathing heavily over what had just occurred. It only got worse when he realized his whole apartment had changed into black and white, almost as if the color had faded away entirely. The only colors left to see was his own self and the television. He looked to see it was still showing the news. However, he noticed the newscaster looking vaguely familiar now. His Auburn hair was now looking a little scraggly, his eyes looking a little more red, his glasses changed to a monocle, his suit looking somewhat vibrant, and his smile literally looking sharper. As Eric watched the news, he noticed some static interference as it went on. It was almost as if it allowed more changes to the newscaster.

"And in other news, authorities are on the lookout for a suspicious being--"

-static-

"--recently being sighted within the city. He is considered--"

-static-

"--to be a number one priority--"

-static-

"--for elimination. If you happen to--"

-static-

"--see this human…"

Eric's heart froze as he noticed the newscaster looking exactly like the Radio Demon from earlier, feeling his stare looking like a threatening gaze into his own eyes. The demon's own eyes suddenly change into radio dials.

"Kill him _slowly_ …"

Eric took the plate he had for his waffles and threw it at the TV, leaving nothing but a huge crack and static on the screen. He then made a mad dash for his room. He scavenged around his room for anything he could use as a weapon but it was sort of troubling to find a good weapon when you're literally seeing only black and white. As he searched around, he was hearing a new type of sound being played all around him; music. Some sort of bombastic style of rock music was playing within his room. But there were no speakers or instruments in his room. His distraction was amplified when he noticed a small doll on the center of his bed. It was a small plush of what looked like the Radio Demon. It was practically looking in his direction. Then he heard singing…

???:  
I'm just a phantom in your room  
With no intent on leaving soon  
And you're still not even sure just how I got here

Eric looked all around his bedroom, trying to find out where the voice was coming from. But there was only him and the doll on his bed. And the doll seemed to be more suspicious as he looked at it.

???:  
Another ghost that's in your bed  
That you wish you could leave for dead  
Ain't no magic word can make me disappear

Just staring down at the plushie was already unnerving and uncomfortable, as he began to feel a chill run down his spine. It would increase by tenfold when he saw the eyes on the doll beginning to glow red. It grew brighter and brighter, nearly blinding Eric. But then in an instant, the eyes stopped glowing and the room went pitch black.

???:  
Now that room it starts to dim  
Set the mood for onset sin  
And now we're passed out on the floor of your apartment

Eric tried to back away to his bedroom door, completely frightened by the situation. Soon, the room began to slowly light back up.

???:  
With every single warning sign  
It passed you up and slipped you by  
But we're all bound to end up back to where we started

As the room began to light up in a faded red color, Eric could see that the doll had disappeared.

???:  
Make no mistake  
I'll break you down

Eric looked at his bed to see what looked like his blanket had been tucked within his bed, but could see a couple of lumps. However, the so-called lumps seemed to be shaped into a figure lying still underneath. He could see what looked like a foot twitch slightly by the end of his bed, adding more tension, stress, and fear to him already.

???:  
Shout it around town

Eric was hardly prepared for this. He felt like he was a hair away from being killed in his own bedroom. Then, the figure shifted upward and took off the blanket, revealing himself to be the Radio Demon, several inches taller than him with a wicked grin and all.

Radio Demon:  
I'm not what you want  
But I'm exactly what you need

Eric was frozen with fear as he saw what he basically would call the Devil himself standing up from his own bed and singing directly to him. His heart was beating faster than it had before, almost matching the rhythm of the demon’s own song.

Radio Demon:  
Take a bite and feed  
Your satisfaction guaranteed

The Radio Demon did a little dance as he continued his song, moving towards the window behind him and grabbing the string for the blinds.

Radio Demon:  
I'm your sunshine, whoa  
I'm gonna burn down your parade

  
The Radio Demon opened the blinds in an instant, revealing what would be Eric’s own neighborhood, only to be covered in a red hue and fire all around, faint screaming in the distance.

Radio Demon:  
I'm a shooting star  
That wish you wished you never made

Eric could feel his heart rate increasing as the Radio Demon walked over to him closer and closer. Eric fumbled for a little while but eventually grabbed the door knob and rushed out without hesitation. He locked the door from the outside and grabbed another chair to press it against the door. He ran towards the front door, grabbed his keys from a small table near the door, and proceeded to open the door to escape. However, once he opened it, he saw a reflection of himself blocking his path, almost like looking in a mirror. Except that his own reflection was smiling at him.

Reflection:  
Don't wanna take a leap of faith  
You wanna do this face to face  
And like an animal the instincts taken over

Eric shifted from side to side, only to see the reflection was mimicking his own moves. Confused and scared, Eric tried to place his hand on the reflection, only to find that his hands were touching an identical set of palms instead of a flat mirror surface. He reeled his hands back in shock.

Reflection:  
There ain't nothing to debate  
Blow this purgatory state  
The city lights will drown you out in the exposure

Before Eric could do anything, the reflection began to move around in a series of dance moves unfamiliar to him, as he soon felt like his body was working against him and followed the reflection entirely. It started with a set of jazz hands with his arms waving around frantically, then a dance move that he would assume would be the Charleston, followed by a quick spin. As he spun back around to face his reflection, he could see it changed into the Radio Demon. Eric found his way out of what felt like a hex and ran away from the door, but not before tripping over the table that had apparently fallen over.

Radio Demon:  
Now that room it starts to dim  
Set the mood for onset sin  
And now we're passed out on the floor of your apartment

Eric fell onto the floor, hitting the carpet face first. He looked up to see the black and white look had begun to dim and turn pitch black.

Radio Demon:  
With every single warning sign  
It passed you up and slipped you by  
But we're all bound to end up back to where we started

Eric saw his apartment lighting back up, but looking completely different than what it was before. The decor and furniture had all been changed to match the hotel he was in before, looking more demonic than he could even imagine. He picked himself up and ran towards the kitchen.

Radio Demon:  
Make no mistake  
I'll break you down

Eric froze when he saw the Radio Demon brandishing a large kitchen knife and a butcher cleaver, his smile looking fierce and his eyes glowing into radio dials. Eric ran back towards the front door, noticing the Radio Demon just standing in what looked like a reflection.

Radio Demon:  
Shout it around town

Eric took a huge risk and ran towards the door, bracing for the impact of either the Radio Demon or his exit. As he hit his mark, he saw the reflection turned out to be a mirror that had shattered upon impact. However, he noticed that he crashed into nothing but a dark void and felt gravity working against him as he was falling down in the vast empty space.

Radio Demon:  
I'm not what you want  
But I'm exactly what you need

Eric felt like he was falling out of a plane and plummeting to his death, almost like his drop into Hell. But as he tried to move, he realized his body was moving slower than he was actually falling. It was like he was stuck in slow motion.

Radio Demon:  
Take a bite and feed  
Your satisfaction guaranteed

Eric looked past the broken mirror shards and gazed up at where his exit was, looking at the silhouette of the Radio Demon. He just stood there as he continued to sing, his silhouette blocking some of the light from what once was his apartment.

Radio Demon:  
I'm your sunshine, whoa  
I'm gonna burn down your parade

As Eric continued his fall in the depths of the empty void, the shards began to circle around him, forming into a ring. Then the shards began to mold into stars.

Radio Demon:  
I'm a shooting star  
That wish you wished you never made

Eric then found himself crashing on what felt like the ground, the stars that surrounded him disappeared in a flash. He saw the room begin to light up in a red color, fog beginning to cover the ground. He stood up slowly, only to find that he wasn’t alone. He looked around and saw numerous shadows that resembled the Radio Demon. They floated around him in a large circle. Eric couldn’t tell how many of them there were but it had to have been roughly a dozen if not more. His heart was beating like a drum kit for a heavy metal band, anxiety beginning to hit him like a ton of bricks. His fear of being killed was amplified a hundredfold. He shrieked slightly when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see the Radio Demon standing right beside him with what seemed like a friendly approach.

Radio Demon:  
This world is what you need  
Where the monsters roam and the demons all feed

The Radio Demon waved his microphone around in a friendly fashion as the shadows that surrounded the two were beginning to sing along in brackets, all while making Eric feel more nervous and uncomfortable.

Radio Demon:  
Relax, don’t you look so wary  
It’s all only temporary  
We roam and sing along  
While the choir joins in sing an abhorrent song

The Radio Demon took his hand off of Eric and moved away from him. In fact, he moved so far that he went past his own shadows, who had stopped dancing and began to swirl around in what looked like a large tornado.

Radio Demon:  
We bite it’s a little bit scary  
The pain’s only temporary

The tornado faded away, revealing a large monster of a shadow towering over Eric like something out of a horror film. It’s face resembled that of a Windigo, with antlers larger than a tree branch, teeth like spears, and eyes glowing crimson. Its arms were about as large and threatening as a grizzly bear’s own appendage, with the claws looking sharper and deadlier. Eric felt like his heart stopped and was ready to collapse like an old vase. The shadow beast whipped around and began to fly directly towards Eric. He shielded himself with his own arms and shut his eyes tightly, hoping that it wasn’t going to attack or kill him. The beast flew into Eric but faded away just as it hit him directly. Eric opened his eyes and saw a black mist disappearing before him. The Radio Demon continued to sing.

Radio Demon:  
I'm not what you want  
But I'm exactly what you need

Eric inspected his whole body, pressing his chest and face to see what sort of reaction he would have from what had just occurred. To his relief, it felt like nothing had even happened whatsoever.

Radio Demon:  
Take a bite and feed  
Your satisfaction guaranteed

Eric felt his heart ache and throb in pain like someone was squeezing it with a boulder-sized fist. The impact caused him to fall to his knees. The Radio Demon only smiled at the whole situation as he continued to sing.

Radio Demon:  
I'm not what you want  
But I'm exactly what you need

Eric looked at his arms and saw large black veins flooding up towards his wrists. The pain emanating from his chest increased as he began to dig into his shirt.

Radio Demon:  
Take a bite and feed  
Your satisfaction guaranteed

Eric tore off his shirt and saw that his chest was flooded with black veins, spreading through his arms and legs. His arms began to quiver, feeling numb from the pain.

Radio Demon:  
I'm your sunshine, whoa  
I'm gonna burn down your parade

Eric felt the black veins reaching up to his neck and covered part of his face, making him choke and gag from the burning sensation that flooded his body. He grasped his neck as if he couldn’t breathe, only feeling everything beginning to hurt tremendously.

Radio Demon:  
I'm a shooting star  
That wish you wished you never made

The Radio Demon began to slowly walk towards Eric, who had lost his balance and fell on his back. The black veins were throbbing and burning inside of his body, tears flooding his eyes from the pain he was in.

Radio Demon:  
Wish you wished you never made

Through the struggling grunts and gurgles that came from Eric’s suffering, the only other sound that could be heard was of a piano playing a few notes in the background. The Radio Demon approached Eric in his vulnerable state, almost relishing in the young man’s suffering. Eric felt like his entire body was on fire but numb at the same time, his eyes drenched in tears, his cough sounding hoarse. He reached his hand out to the Radio Demon, signaling that he was in dire need of help regardless of who he was asking. All Eric could see was the wicked yellow grin from the demon’s face but took notice of the microphone he held in his hand. He saw him raising it above his chest slowly. He focused his vision on the microphone as best as he could through his blurred vision. He looked to see the bottom of the cane had a sharpened point and it was aimed directly above his chest. His eyes widened as he could finally figure out what was in store for him. Before he could attempt any form of objection, the Radio Demon took his cane and plunged it into his heart like a dagger.

* * *

Eric awoke with a deep gasp. He thrust his head up in the air, cold sweat forming off his brow, his eyes watering with fear. He panted heavily, trying to take in as much oxygen as he could, practically hyperventilating from his nightmare. He placed his palms on his eyes, trying not to cry so loud.

“Fucking Christ... I can’t even get any peace in my sleep.”

He tried to keep his composure but it only made him cry a little harder, tears flooding faster. He choked on a few of his sobs, still reeling over the nightmare that felt all too real to be from his own imagination. The only thing he could do without making so much noise was to use his bag as a punching bag, taking his fear and frustration out on it.

“You stupid fucking pussy… Let some fucking freak kill you so easily… Fucking coward…”

As he punched furiously, he felt a hard piece inside his bag. That's when he realized the bottle of scotch he took earlier. He opened his bag and took out the bottle, relieved he hadn't broken the bottle from his anger just now. He took off the cap and proceeded to take a swig, tasting the bitter liquid. Although it gave him a brief moment of relief, the dream he had only added more stress to his predicament. Realizing how he may not be able to walk out of this hotel alive, let alone Hell, he decided to drink until he could pass out. After a couple of chugs, it didn't take long for the alcohol to do its job and he fell asleep in his booze binge. Unbeknownst to him, the shadow that had invaded his mind had stuck around the room for a while until Eric was fast asleep again. It made its way out of the closet and into the fireplace, smiling wickedly with anticipation.

* * *

Morning came and Eric managed to wake up a little later than usual. He found his head pounding like a drum, regretting having to chug down the bottle of scotch last night. He took out his phone and saw the time; 9:53 AM. Groaning from the time and his hangover, Eric stood up and stretched himself out and went to the closet door. Looking out through the keyhole, he noticed a few of the demons conversing by the bar. The little cyclops demon was standing on a barstool while the white demon was flirting with the barkeep demon. This went on for a short while until he saw the Radio Demon walk in and spoke to the group. Not wanting to miss a chance to listen in, Eric carefully opened the door so he could hear what they were saying.

"Now I was hoping to speak to all of you on an urgent matter."

"Yeah, some asshole ate my ziti! I thought it was Husker here!"

"I already have my own food, fuckboy. Besides, you stole a bottle of scotch!"

"No, I didn't! I had the last of the champagne, but that was about it!"

"Gentlemen, please! There's no need for any bickering or finger-pointing. Besides, I know none of you were responsible."

"Oh yeah? How do you know, smiles?"

"Simple. There's an intruder in the hotel."

Eric felt his heart skip a beat once he said that. The Radio Demon knew he was here. How he knew was still a mystery to him.

"An intruder? How did you find out about this, Alastor?"

"Excellent question, Niffty! One of my shadows had spied on the ground level and saw the intruder take the bottle of scotch and our effeminate friend's own meal."

_A FUCKING SHADOW SAW ME?!_

Eric's mind was in a frenzy but immediately stopped when he remembered the dream he had. The group of shadows that surrounded him. They all looked like the Radio Demon, they all formed together to attack him in his own dream. This was all planned out. He was still trying to figure out how it even happened and what his next move should be. But he continued to listen in on the conversation.

"So what, we got some fuckin' drifter hiding in the hotel for scraps?"

"Not just a drifter, Husker. A rather unusual visitor from the living world…"

_Oh fuck…_

"Whoa whoa, are you talkin’ ‘bout a human? Like a living, breathing human? Like still with his skin on and walking amongst us?"

"Indeed, my fellow arachnid. A human being has made its way into Hell and into our hotel."

_Oh fuck._

“So what do we have to do, search every room inside the hotel to find him?”

“That won’t be necessary, Husker…”

_OH FUCK._

“Because I know exactly where he is…”

Before Eric could even react, he saw the Radio Demon look straight at him from his location, his eyes suddenly turning into radio dials just like in the dream. He pressed his hands against his mouth, stifling a gasp and a scream. He was totally fucked now. The demons are literally at the door and almost ready to attack. All he could do was slowly back away from the door, hoping to bide a little extra time. But he was interrupted when his back bumped into something behind him. He never lost sight of the door, too scared to move for anything.

“It seems a bit crowded in this room, don’t you think so, young man?”

The familiar voice caused Eric to feel his heart sink down his chest. His stomach was turning into numerous knots, hair standing on the back of his neck. He slowly turned around to find nothing within the darkness. but then the radio dial eyes began to glow, followed by a wicked toothy grin.

“Hello there…”

The only sound that could be heard was the gut-wrenching scream that Eric let out, as he backed towards the closet door. His back hit the door so hard the hinges finally broke off, causing him to fall hard on the back of his head. He groaned in pain from both the impact and the hangover. He opened his eyes as he looked up from his grounded position. While it looked like they were upside down, Eric could see the other three demons standing right above him. The cyclops demon looked at him with curiosity and fascination, the cat demon was surprised yet didn’t seem to care. The tall white demon looked at him in an almost flirtatious manner.

“Hey there, sexy~”

“AAAAHHHH!!!”

“S’matter, never seen a good looker before?”

“You never were really good at first impressions, Angel…”

Eric looked back at the closet to see the Radio Demon standing within the door frame, looking at the white demon then back at Eric with a wider grin. Eric picked himself up as best as he could and ran for the exit. The other demons didn’t go after him, not even the Radio Demon himself. He watched on as he saw Eric go towards the front doors. He grabbed the doorknobs and tried to open them, but found that they could hardly move. He shook and turned as hard as he could to get the doors open.

“Did you really think I would even let you escape so easily?”

Eric whipped his head up and saw the Radio Demon holding a key in his hand, giving him the obvious answer to his new predicament.

“The early bird catches the worm…”

Eric felt his heart sinking down to his stomach, his back against the door on the right, cowering in fear as he saw the Radio Demon pocket the key and walk towards him slowly.

“Now wait a minute, man. L-let’s talk this over. I’m sure we can negotiate, work out a deal or something. Surely you’re a reasonable man, right?”

The Radio Demon could only chuckle politely at the young man’s request, still inching his way ever so slowly.

“I’m afraid that’s already far too late, my boy…”

“What… what do you mean?”

“The chance to negotiate expired the moment you crossed the threshold…”

He walked closer to Eric, passing the bar and getting near the reception desk. Eric could only press his back further against the door, feeling like a rat being trapped by a hungry cat.

“Y-you… Y-y-you can’t be serious…”

The Radio Demon was roughly eight feet away from Eric, passing by several portraits as he got closer, his smile and demeanor never faded away.

“ _ **Deadly serious**_...”

The radio dials formed in his eyes again, the sheer vision of the Radio Demon turned into a mess of deformities and static the likes of which Eric could hardly fathom. The only thing he could do was shuffle his feet against the floor in a panic. His heart beating rapidly, his eyes tearing up, his right hand on the doorknob, his left hand grasping his chest.

“P-p-please… please don’t kill me…”

The nefarious smile of the Radio Demon looked almost wider than before, as the sounds of radio static and screams of pain and agony filled the room up. Black tentacles came from under the ground almost out of nowhere as they inched their way to grab Eric without hesitation. Eric shut his eyes, hoping to wake up from this horrible nightmare he was in. His fears subsided when he felt the doorknob click and turn in his grasp. He opened his eyes in confusion and surprise. Then he felt the door push open with him still against it, as he hit face-first against the neighboring wall at full force. The impact knocked him out cold.

“WE’RE BACK!”

The Radio Demon receded his tentacles and immediately switched off from his ‘kill mode’, as he was perplexed by what had just occurred as the young blonde demon and the gray demon had walked in with stacks of papers. The blonde bounced into the lobby with high spirits, while the gray demon just watched with amusement while struggling to carry the load of papers in her grasp.

“Vaggie and I managed to get a couple dozen posters and flyers printed out to help spread the word on the hotel. Take a look at the first one and tell me what you think!”

The focus was lost on the poster as all of the demons aside from the two had been locked into stunned silence, their faces perplexed over the previous event before their return. The gray demon could tell by the looks on their faces that something wasn’t on the level, as she set the posters on the floor by her feet, while the blonde demon’s anticipation faded.

“Alright, what happened? I can tell by the looks on your faces that something happened while we were out.”

Barely anyone was able to respond, while the right door creaked and every demon could see the unconscious body of Eric. He had a large bruise on his forehead and a bloody nose as a result of the door slamming into the wall. He stood still for a moment but then began to topple down to the ground at the feet of the two ladies, landing next to a pile of posters. The only sound that could be heard was the big gasp from the blonde demon. Eric was out cold as he hardly moved a muscle, as each demon began to circle around his body to look at him. What could a human be doing here and what could they do with him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song used during the dream sequence was "Phantom" by NateWantsToBattle. I based the sequence on the song's re-release on YouTube, which had Alastor's dialogue from 'Hazbin Hotel' added in the video. The song felt fitting for a sequence like this and after many repeats to really fit the mood, I was able to work it out in a format that I think fits. Plus, I felt like the song fit well for Alastor as a whole.


	3. Checking In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, the cat's out of the bag. Or rather the human's out in the open. Thankfully, he's safe with Charlie and Vaggie. But how safe can he really be?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter. I'm on a roll here, not often I go nuts on stuff like this. Also, with this chapter, I went back to basics and did it in the old fashioned format. And I won't have to refer to everyone as 'that demon'. Anywho, enjoy!
> 
> (Also, see if you can spot a movie reference I left in)

### Chapter 3 - Checking In

Having to deal with a wicked hangover was one thing. But having to slam into a wall like getting hit by a truck was a whole new spectrum of pain for Eric. He groaned as he heard faint voices, somewhat familiar altogether. He squinted while trying to open his eyes. His vision was blurred, almost like he was in another location. His eyes were half-open when he saw something strange yet mesmerizing. The background was bright and blue, almost as if he was in the sky. He saw a beautiful woman standing above him, long flowing blonde hair, pale white skin, a long baby blue robe, a warm and friendly smile, a set of large white feathery wings, and a golden halo glowing above her head.

“Oh thank goodness you’re awake,” said the woman in a motherly tone.

Eric sighed in relief at the greeting of the blonde woman’s gentle tone, feeling her hand tenderly rubbing his cheek. He held her hand gently in response.

“Thank you,” he replied as he rubbed his thumb on her hand.

Eric smiled back at her as he heard the sound of humming, while a few other voices spoke in the background. He ignored them as he focused on the woman that was caring for him.

“You are such a wonderful angel,” sighed Eric, as he felt like he was at peace.

“Oh, hehe, that’s a funny thing to say,” replied the woman as she pulled her hand back gently.

“Yeah? Funny how?”

“Well, I’m not really an angel,” replied the woman, as her voice changed into something completely different yet familiar.

Eric blinked a few times in confusion. As he did, he saw the vision he had was changing around. The blue background changed into a set of reds and grays. The woman that he thought was an angel turned out to be the blonde demon woman he saw before, bearing a nervous smile while looking down at him. With his vision fully retained, he noticed other demons standing behind her. The gray demon woman looked at him with a stern yet concerned look on her face. The white demon looked at him with a cocky grin. Eric’s realization had brought back one particular emotion: Panic.

* * *

From outside the hotel, a homeless crow demon was walking past the building while pushing around a shopping cart full of junk. There he could hear the sound of someone screaming his head off. He slowly looked at the door, annoyed by the scream.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP,” yelled the demon as he threw an opened can of beans at the door.

* * *

Back in the hotel, Eric was still screaming his head off after realizing he was still in Hell, still inside the hotel, and surrounded by several demons that could easily kill him without hesitation. He tried to roll over, only to find he was rolling off of a couch and fell to the floor on his ass, which stopped him from screaming any further. He looked back up to see the three demons, along with the cat demon and cyclops demon, standing over him still. Frightened beyond comprehension, Eric crawled backward on the floor, using his hands to move fast.

“N-n-no,” quivered Eric in a panic, “Get away from me! I don't wanna die!”

“Whoa whoa whoa, calm down,” said the gray demon while trying to ease the tension.

“Please, I’ll do whatever you want! Just don’t kill me!”

“Oooh, anything,” replied the white demon as he licked his lips.

The gray demon responded with a smack upside his head, while the blonde demon approached Eric cautiously. Eric shut his eyes while shielding his head with his left arm while his right arm kept his balance, tears forming in his eyes. His heart nearly dropped when he felt one hand on his shoulder and another hand on his head, both holding onto him gently. He opened his eyes and lowered his arm, looking at the friendly smile from the blonde demon.

“It’s alright,” she said in a gentle tone of voice, “we won’t hurt you.”

Eric looked at her in surprise. How could this demon be so friendly to him? After practically stepping onto death’s doormat with the Radio Demon, why should she be the one to grant mercy on him? What if this was just a ploy, a trick to weaken his defenses so they could kill him later? His thoughts were interrupted by a sudden sharp feeling of pain on his forehead, as he flinched from its excruciating pain. The gray demon approached with a bag of ice.

“Here, hold this on your forehead,” she said as she handed the bag to Eric, “It should ease it up a little until Alastor brings in the aspirin.”

With a little hesitation, Eric placed the bag on his forehead. The coldness made him flinch a little but he eased up on it and kept hold of it. He then saw the cyclops demon approach with a box of tissues.

“Here,” she said as she held the box up to his face, “You might wanna wipe the rest of the blood off from your nose.”

Eric cautiously grabbed one tissue and did as instructed. As he did, he noticed the tissue had a small amount of blood soaked in it, as well as a few bits of dried blood flaked on. He looked up at the demons that had helped him. It was certainly unexpected for him to see.

“Umm, than-thank you,” he said sheepishly, still dabbing the tissue under his nose.

The cat demon approached with a bottle of water, not saying anything except to hand over the bottle to Eric nonchalantly.

“Hey, thanks a lo--”

“Go fuck yourself,” replied the cat demon instantly, “I ain’t doin’ anything else until you pay me for the scotch or replace it.”

“I’m sure we’ll work something out on that later, Husk,” replied the gray demon.

“Oh that’s right, we haven’t even introduced ourselves,” said the blonde demon, “My name is Charlie and that’s my best friend Vaggie.”

“I want to apologize about Husker,” continued Vaggie apologetically, “he runs the bar and is told who is allowed alcohol and who isn’t. He’s decent once you get to know him…”

"After I get that scotch you owe me!”

“HUSK!”

“Aaaaanyway,” continued Charlie as she tried to ease the tension, “This is Niffty. She helps clean and cook in our hotel."

“Hi there, it’s nice to meet you,” Nifty greeted with a wide smile, “I’ve never seen a human in Hell before. Are you by any chance single?”

“Uhhh…”

Eric could only look on at her in awkward silence while trying not to stare directly into her single eye. Thankfully for him, Charlie came up behind her to try and pull her away.

“Calm down Niffty,” said Charlie, “He’s still got a lot to get used to around here.”

“Wait ‘til he gets a load of me,” replied the tall white demon as he approached Eric with a strut while fluffing up his chest of fluff with his upper arms.

“Hello there, sweetheart, name’s Angel Dust.”

“Uh, nice to meet you,” replied Eric as he finished wiping his nose, “What do you do?”

“I can do just about anyone for the right price... I can even suck your dick.”

"Uhh, that… won’t be necessary…”

“What, are you an ace too?”

“ANGEL, STOP IT,” shouted Vaggie as she tried to pull him away.

“No no, it’s alright. I just,” replied Eric as he tried to explain himself, “well, I’m not 100% on the level there. Plus, I just met all of you.”

"Well, you still owe me for the ziti, pal,” replied Angel with his lower hands on his hips.

“Well, I can try and work on that whenever I have the chance. And to be fair, that was some good ziti.”

Angel could only smile in response, almost as if he had pride in that pasta. Eric took a moment to stand on his own two legs, stretching a little.

“So, is there anyone else I should know about?”

“I do apologize for my tardiness, I just had trouble finding the Ex-Ced-Er-An you asked for, but I believe I found it.”

Eric turned around to meet an all-too-familiar face that he wished he hadn’t seen again. From the door behind him was the Radio Demon, holding his microphone in his left hand and a bottle of Excedrin in his right hand, all while smiling in that familiarly fiendish grin.

“Oh good, you’re finally awake, my boy,” said the Radio Demon in a casual tone.

Eric only stood there, quivering with fear. The feeling of dread crept up his spine once again. The only sound he could make was him sucking in air while quivering his lips in panic and fear.

“Hey, he’s doing Shemp Howard,” laughed Angel Dust, “Say, can you do Curly too?”

Without even listening to Angel, Eric went from quivering his lip to making a rather unusual sound with his mouth open as he turned to face the other demons while keeping his hands on his head, one of them still holding the ice pack.

“HA! There’s ol’ Curly Howard, the chowda’ head!”

Eric turned back around slowly, still seeing the Radio Demon and his wicked grin. He quickly turned his head back to the other demons and screamed his head off as he dropped the ice pack and dove into the bar, standing behind Husker while holding his wings up like a shield.

“KEEP THAT CREEPY MOTHERFUCKER AWAY FROM ME,” yelled Eric in distress.

"GET OFF ME, FUCKFACE,” yelled Husker as he tried to move his wings off of his grip.

Charlie and Vaggie looked back at the Radio Demon, concern in Charlie’s eyes and anger in Vaggie’s.

“Al, is there something you’d like to tell us,” asked Vaggie, ready for interrogation.

Alastor could only shrug at her response, acting as if he didn’t do anything wrong.

“I can’t say what’s wrong with the boy, but he’s certainly entertaining,” he replied with a chuckle.

“Entertaining,” said Eric from behind Husker’s wings, “I’m not sure how being threatened and nearly KILLED counts as entertainment!”

“Can someone get him off of me already,” yelled Husker.

“My boy, you sound a little paranoid,” retorted Alastor as he flicked his microphone.

“Oh, don’t bullshit a bullshitter, you sick fuck!”

“STOP YELLIN’ IN MY FUCKIN’ EARS!”

“Look human, you need to calm down,” said Vaggie, trying to ease the tension.

“How can I calm down when you got fucking Beezlebub over there!”

“I’m gonna tear your FUCKIN’ HEAD OFF IF YOU DON’T GET OFFFA’ ME!”

“ ** _ENOUGH!!!_ **”

The bellow from Charlie was loud enough to rock the entire hotel, as she went from calm and collective to a raging devil, with large horns and red eyes to add emphasis. A sense of stunned silence hangs in the air, even Alastor is fully surprised by Charlie’s outburst. Eric was still shaking with fear as he hid behind Husker’s wings. Charlie managed to calm herself down and revert back to normal.

“Obviously the fact that we have a human in our hotel is a problem, mainly due to all of the dangerous and deadly denizens in Hell,” said Charlie as she made her voice heard, “And while it is unexpectant, we are going to keep this human safe.”

Eric’s fear subsided when he heard that, feeling somewhat at ease.

"We are going to do our best to help this human. It may be a challenge but I think we’re up for the task.”

“Thanks, Charlie,” replied Eric as he moved out of the bar, “But how are you going to help me get back home?”

Silence hung in the air again, as Charlie’s positivity seemed to have crashed like a ton of bricks. Her eyes darted back and forth several times, trying to think of an answer. Husker and Niffty looked at each other in confusion, Angel looked at Vaggie expecting some sort of answer only for her to reply with a shrug. Then Alastor approached Charlie as he placed a hand on her shoulder.

"It would seem that we have reached an impasse,” he said with certainty, “It’s rather impossible for us to try and send you home ourselves, so I’m afraid you’re stuck with us for the rest of your life…”

Eric began to sweat, letting all of this information sink in. He felt like he could faint but tried his best to keep his balance.

"Now hold on,” said Vaggie as she moved over to Eric’s side, “I know it’s impossible to try and get him back home, but I’m sure there has to be some way of doing it.”

The positivity coming from Vaggie was a shock to almost everyone in the room. Alastor was more amused while Charlie was smiling from ear to ear.

“And even if it takes a long time for us to accomplish that, we’re going to keep him safe and treat him fairly like everyone else.”

“Vaggie’s right,” Charlie chimed, “Regardless of what happens, you’re still our guest and we intend to make you feel like you belong here, even though it’s Hell…”

Eric was practically gobsmacked by both the positivity and acceptance from the two demon girls. Even after causing a little trouble and minor property damage, they are still able to accept him into their hotel. His wandering mind was interrupted when he saw Charlie approach him, her hands gently resting on his shoulders as she stared into his eyes with confidence.

“Human, as Princess of Hell, I hereby grant you clemency and allow you to stay here as a resident of our hotel until you are able to find your way home.”

Eric felt speechless as he felt Charlie pull him into a big hug. He was surprised at first but felt like he earned the hospitality and acceptance. He then reciprocated by hugging Charlie, his eyes watering with joy. This would last for a few seconds until Charlie moved out of it and held his hands.

“Welcome to the Happy Hotel… uhh... oh boy… I don’t think we even got your name.”

“Oh yeah, sorry,” he replied sheepishly, “I’m Eric, Eric Severino.”

“Welcome to our humble abode, Eric.”

Charlie then began to applaud Eric, as a few of the others joined in as well. Angel was somewhat hesitant but shrugged his shoulders and clapped with his upper hands. Husker just took a drink from his bottle of cheap booze. Alaster on the other hand did an old-fashioned golf clap, as Eric took notice with a hint of discomfort. He tried not to look at him directly, still feeling uneasy being around him altogether. But then a sudden thought crept in his head.

_Princess of Hell?_

“Whoa whoa, wait a minute,” said Eric as he started to act a little frazzled, “Charlie, you said you were Princess?”

"Uhh yes, yes I did,” she replied sheepishly.

“So wait, if you’re a princess, then that means…”

He stopped and made his way down the hall by the reception desk, looking at one of the portraits he saw yesterday. The others followed suit as they were all confused at Eric’s curiosity. He placed his hands on the portrait he found; the portrait with Charlie and two other demons together.

“I’m taking a wild guess here… would these two happen to be…”

“My mother and father, yes,” she replied, feeling a little uneasy to reply.

Eric took in this new information with a sense of dread. The pieces of the puzzle were practically put in place and easy to set up. He just had to put two and two together to find his answers.

“So your father is none other than Sata--”

“Lucifer…”

“Wha--Lucifer? Really?”

“Yes, that’s his name, Lucifer Magne.”

“Huh… And your mother?”

“Lillith.”

“Huh… Lilith and Lucifer Magne…”

_Move over Gomez and Morticia Addams…_

Eric continued to look at the portrait carefully, feeling uneasy having to look at the figure that was known as Lucifer in the image. It was not what he was expecting but just being in Hell was unexpected altogether for him.

“Actually, we could speak to my father about your predicament.”

Eric’s eyes widened at the mere mention of the idea.

“WHAT?! That’s a horrible idea!”

“How is that a bad idea?”

“I already had one overpowered bastard try to kill me before, what makes you think it won’t happen again if we approach your father of all people?!”

“Now calm down, there’s no need to shout at her,” replied Vaggie as she placed her hand on his shoulder, “But unfortunately he’s right.”

“But Vaggie--”

“Charlie, he’s at great risk being in Hell to begin with. If we tried to approach anyone else about him or how to get him back home, there’s no telling how much damage that could cause. And I’m sorry, but your dad could be just as dangerous to try and bring him in for help.”

Charlie thought about this for a while, trying to assess the situation. But she eventually sighed in defeat.

“You’re right. If I tried to talk to my dad about this, it could only end in disaster…”

Everyone was silent, trying to think of a solution. Angel then walked up to Eric, his lower arms on his hips and his left upper arm pointing at him.

“How did you even get here anyway,” he asked as he approached him.

“Well, it’s not like I came here voluntarily,” Eric replied, “It happened yesterday as I came home from my day working construction…”

* * *

Eric unlocked his apartment door and pushed it open. He dusted his boots off on the mat and walked inside, holding his black bag with one hand and a pile of mail in the other. He shut the door behind him and tossed the mail on the table nearby. He rubbed his temples in a circle motion, worn out from all the work he did. He placed the bag near his couch and walked into the kitchen. Inside the kitchen, Eric grabbed the last can of Miller Lite and popped the top, taking a swig to relieve a little stress. As he walked back out to the living room, he plopped onto the couch and proceeded to watch some TV. He skimmed through several movie channels and all other channels that barely had anything interesting. During his tedious time channel surfing, he reached into his pocket for his pack of Newports, pulling out the last one. He grabbed his lighter on the table and lit up his cigarette.

As he was puffing away, he was interrupted by a loud sound that was completely unfamiliar. He turned around and saw a large hole in his wall with flames around it. He couldn’t tell what it was at first, but then he realized it was some sort of portal. From the other side, he could see strange-looking creatures with black horns and red skin. He could hardly make out what they were saying as two of them were having an argument. But he managed to notice one of them was closest to the portal. The one looked like a woman, with raven hair, black glossy lips, a mole on her cheek, while wearing what looked like black suspenders and long black fingerless gloves. As the two other creatures were arguing, the one female looked at Eric almost casually and just smiled and waved at him. Eric, in a confused state of mind, just absentmindedly waved back at her. She then went after one of the creatures that seemed like it was ready to tear the other one's throat out, as she was yelling at them to stop. She said something that was almost incoherent, but he swore he heard her say, "Stop it Moxxie, he's our boss".

Before he could even do anything else, he noticed the portal spazzing out, as if there was some form of interference. The room that was once on the other side had changed into a swirling vortex of reds and yellows. Suddenly, he felt the swirl of the vortex pulling him in slightly. He grabbed his bag to keep himself from flying off, only to find the vortex growing stronger. He saw his couch was being pulled in as well, as it started to push him into it. He felt trapped and tried to escape, but felt his body being sucked into the portal. His legs were dangling from inside the portal, as he gripped onto his couch that was blocking part of the portal. He still held onto the bag with his left arm while gripping the fabric of the couch with his right arm with all of his might, but the current of the portal grew stronger.

"FOR FUCK'S SAKE, HOW DO YOU STOP IT?!"

Before he could do anything to help himself, the fabric of his couch ripped from the seam and he began to fly through the portal. The feeling was like being sucked into a whirlpool of wind and rain, but there was a large amount of heat circulating from inside. It was like he was in a volcanic tornado. Then the reds and yellows faded away and soon found himself falling into what looked like a big city.

* * *

"After that, I found myself in the city here," said Eric as he continued his story, "Nearly thought I was going to die, between the fall to an encounter with homeless demons ready to kill or rape me with no regard. Long story short…"

"Too late," muttered Husker.

"I hid in this hotel to try and survive. Of course, you all know how well _that_ ended…"

“Wow, I can’t imagine how much trouble that was for you,” said Niffty in astonishment.

"Well, that’s putting lightly…”

“Yes, it was a charming little story,” replied Alastor, “Perhaps we could record your next perilous adventure for my broadcast, I’m sure that’ll liven up the audience!”

“Am I just a fucking joke to you, asshole?”

“Eric, calm down,” said Vaggie in a strict tone as she handed him the water bottle and a set of aspirin.

Eric stared at Alastor with a fraction of courage, as he swallowed the pills and chugged a little water down. All Alastor did was just smile at him, his eyelids lowered halfway in a somewhat neutral expression. The uneasy feeling came back somewhat stronger than before.

“Unless you’re here to help him, you can leave now,” continued Vaggie as she stood up to Alastor.

Alastor looked almost emotionless towards Vaggie, then looked back at Eric with the same expression. Eric tried to keep a stern look on his face, but deep down he was scared shitless of the Radio Demon still.

“Ordinarily I would take my leave,” replied Alastor as he swung his microphone around, “But this young man still needs to register into the hotel if he’s to be our resident.”

Vaggie and Eric were surprised by Alastor’s response as he walked over to the reception desk and pulled out a piece of paper and a pen. Charlie could tell there was still a little tension going on, so she gently took the paper and pen from Alastor.

"Thank you Al, but I can take it from here,” she said in a nervous tone.

Alastor only nodded in response and walked toward the bar as Husker prepped a drink for him.

“Now then, let’s begin. What’s your full name?”

“Eric V. Severino,” replied Eric, “That’s spelled S-E-V-E-R-I-N-O.”

“Last known location?”

“Philly.”

“Hey, a paisan from Pennsylvania,” cheered Angel as he patted Eric on the back, “Nice to meet a fellow east-coaster!”

“Angel please,” said Vaggie as she tried to calm him down, “He’s busy with his info slip.”

“Alright, moving on,” said Charlie as she was going through the list, “Date of birth?”

“September 4th, 1994.”

“Aww, Happy belated Birthday!”

“Heh, thanks…”

“Date of dea-- oh wait, sorry. That’s not for you.”

“I should fucking hope not…”

“Last occupation?”

“Oh, uh construction.”

“Good. ‘Reason for being in Hell’...”

There was a moment of silence once Charlie read that out loud. Eric stared at her blankly as she looked back with a nervous smile on her face.

“W-we’ll just leave that blank,” she said chuckling nervously, “I think that covers it.”

Charlie folded the paper neatly in half and walked towards the reception desk. Eric followed her as she placed the paper inside an old filing cabinet and grabbed a key from off of a wall.

“This is your room key,” she said as she handed it to Eric, “If there are any issues with your room, we can try and make accommodations or relocate you to another room.”

“Thanks, Charlie,” said Eric as he held the key in his palm.

“Niffty can escort you to your room.”

Niffty looked at the key in Eric’s hand and knew where to go, as she made her way down the hall. As Eric was about to follow her, a thought hit him in the head.

“Oh shit, my bag!”

Eric turned around in a near 180 and walked towards the closet where he hid earlier. Walking over the busted door and into the closet, he switched on the light and took his bag out from inside. As he walked out, he walked over the closet door carefully.

“Uhh, I can help repair that,” he said chuckling nervously.

“Don’t worry, we can worry about that later,” replied Charlie, “Just take some time to relax and mend your wounds. We’ll be by later to check on you.”

Eric nodded in response and made his way back to Niffty, who proceeded to move down the hall. There was very little light down the hallway, almost looking like the never-ending hallway from the Haunted Mansion ride. Next thing Eric could expect was a coffin with a pair of skeleton hands asking to be let out. His thoughts were interrupted when Niffty spoke.

“Here we are, Room 13!”

Eric looked at the door and then his room key; Number 13.

_Great, my lucky number for the day…_

Shrugging it off, Eric placed the key in the keyhole and unlocked the door with ease. As he opened, he took a good look inside the room. Despite the grim facade and some old wallpaper peeling off, the room looked well furnished and somewhat contemporary, with more space than his old bedroom. For Hell, it looked nearly heavenly. He placed his bag on the floor and laid on the bed. The moment he got into bed, he was practically at ease, as he felt like he was nearly sinking into the mattress itself.

“Oh man, this is so comfy,” he said in a sleepy haze.

"Glad you like the bed,” chimed Niffty, “Charlie and Vaggie should be by later on to check up on you. Did you need anything?”

Before Eric could even say no, his stomach began to growl loudly. The growl was loud enough to be heard from outside the room. Eric only chuckled in response.

“Perhaps something to eat,” he asked.

“I think we have some fruit around, would that be alright?”

“That would be fine. Thanks, Niffty.”

Niffty nodded in response and dashed out of the door, slamming it on her way out. Eric flinched from the slam but calmed a bit while holding the ice pack on his head. He relaxed in the bed, feeling almost ready to fall asleep again. Just as he was about to nod off, he heard knocking on the door, instantly waking up again.

“Come in, the door’s open,” he yelled.

The door slowly opened, revealing a familiar set of yellow fangs and red eyes. Eric’s heart froze as he rolled on his side facing the door, his smile dropping like an anvil. He could see Alastor slowly walking into his room with his microphone in one hand and a basket in the other.

“Good day, young man,” he greeted in a cheery tone, “Complimentary fruit basket from the management, i.e. _me!_ ”

Alastor placed the basket by Eric’s torso, who had hardly touched it or even acknowledged it. His sight never left Alastor’s presence, feeling too scared to move or even say anything.

“I should let you know, some of those fruits were leftovers so they may not be as fresh as the others. Just something to bear in mind!”

Alastor swung around and took his leave, humming a little ditty in his radio voice. Eric felt less afraid the further he got from him. Alastor held the door as he made his exit, but stopped to turn back around.

“Oh yes, one more thing, Eric…”

Eric felt his heart stop as he looked into Alastor’s eyes again. The stare practically piercing him like a trident. Then he heard the radio static pick up, as he saw Alastor’s face change into something sinister.

“ ** _Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel… Enjoy your stay…_ **”

Alastor gently closed the door until he was out of sight, a faint chuckle could be heard from outside. Eric felt his heart bounce back up, as he finally rolled on his back and let out a huge sigh. He looked at the basket of fruit left beside him and grabbed an apple out of it. He inspected it and one last thought before taking a big bite.

_What else could fucking happen now?_


	4. Orientation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eric is greeted by Charlie and Vaggie about what to expect in Hell and the hotel itself. Needless to say, he's got his work cut out for him...

### Chapter 4 - Orientation

Eric lied in bed, resting from his injuries he sustained earlier. He cradled the ice pack on his head carefully while munching on a banana. Despite having a rough beginning, Eric felt a little more at ease with his new home. Sure, he was in Hell and stuck with a powerful deity, but at least he had a roof over his head and new friends that could help him for the time being. But he knew he couldn’t just stay inside the room forever, let alone the hotel. He knew someday he would have to see the new landscape before him. But it would be a long while before he could get that far...

Finishing off the banana, Eric tossed the peel in the basket, which had been filled with a few apple cores and mandarin peelings. He felt amused about the fruit tasting almost richer than what he was used to back home. He didn’t know why Alastor had told him about some of the fruits being older. They all seemed pretty fresh.

**CRUNCH**

Eric stopped himself from eating the apple he had in his mouth when he felt a rather unusual texture as he bit into it. There was also a bitter taste within the core itself. As he took the chunk he bit into out of his mouth, he noticed a large brown chunk of something unnatural. He dug into it and pulled it out of the apple chunk, revealing to be some sort of thorax to a bug. He looked back at the apple and saw the other half wedged inside. Eric realized what the chunk was; A big cockroach.

“OHH FUCKING CHRIST!!!”

Eric began to gag at the realization and threw the apple at the door, then made a mad dash to the bathroom near his bed. He rushed in and began to puke out some of the fruit he ate, feeling his throat burn up from the upchuck. He then ducked under the faucet in the sink and rinsed his mouth out from any excess vomit and apple bits. He repeated the process of guzzling and spitting out the water from the faucet. He reeled back and pressed his back against the wall, nausea hitting him like a stone.

“That fucking cocksucker,” he muttered while gasping for breath, “I’m gonna rip him a new asshole, I don’t care what he does to me…”

His thoughts were interrupted when he heard a gentle knock on the door. He shut the faucet off and walked cautiously towards the door. The knocks hit the door again as he got closer. He pressed his hand on the door, taking a moment before responding.

“Who is it,” he asked cautiously.

“It’s Charlie and Vaggie,” replied a voice, “We’re here to check up on you.”

Eric grabbed the doorknob and carefully opened it, taking a peek outside. He sighed in relief when he saw it was indeed Charlie and Vaggie outside his door. He opened the door wider to allow them to enter.

“Come on in, girls,” he replied, “Just had to freshen up a little bit…”

As the two entered the room, Eric noticed that Charlie was holding a clipboard and a pen in her hands. She might be taking notes down for something, he thought. But he figured he’d wait to see what it was for. The girls stood over Eric as he sat down on the bed. Vaggie looked at the apple pieces that were strewn about on the floor, noticing the cockroach inside one part of the apple.

“What the hell happened with the fruit,” asked Vaggie as she looked at the apple in disgust.

“Fucking Alastor,” replied Eric, “That fucker gave me this fruit basket and added a little surprise with it.”

“We’ll talk to him about this later on,” replied Charlie, “For now, we’d like to talk to you about a couple of things.”

Eric dusted himself off for a moment, then positioned his spot so he could get a little more comfortable. He nodded to Charlie to let her speak.

“As you know, you’re going to be in this hotel for a long while. Until we can figure out how to send you back to Earth, you’ll have to stay inside the hotel until further notice.”

“Not much of a choice anyway,” he replied, “I’ve already had a close encounter with the bums outside, not sure what else to expect…”

“Well we can tell you it’s a lot worse than you can ever imagine,” replied Vaggie with her arms crossed.

“The moment you step out there, it’s completely unpredictable. If a group of demons hasn’t attempted to cut you to ribbons, you have numerous gangs and overlords to watch out for.”

“Overlords?”

“Overlords are powerful demons that have greater powers than even regular demons, using their power to rule over several parts of Hell.”

“So, kinda like mob bosses… with satanic powers?”

“You could say that,” replied Charlie, “There are numerous overlords that use their hierarchy however they please, whether it’s through means of wealth and position or…”

“Or?”

“Or to show their disturbing level of dominance and inflict as much suffering as they can on their enemies,” replied Vaggie with a low voice, “Or for some, all of the above…”

“So far you know three already,” continued Charlie, “There are my mother and father, and then there’s--”

“Alastor,” Vaggie interrupted with a hint of venom in her voice.

Eric could see the amount of anger and tension in Vaggie’s lonely eye, all while Charlie tried to calm her down by rubbing on her shoulder gently. Eric knew he was going to hear about this so he decided to break the ice.

“What exactly is the deal with Alastor,” he asked, “And where did the name ‘Radio Demon’ even come from?”

The two girls looked at each other for a moment, both seemed hesitant to even reply. Even as they looked down at Eric, they were concerned about his response to the truth about Alastor.

“How much do you know about him,” asked Charlie as she kneeled down within Eric’s eye level.

“When I feel down in this city,” Eric began, “I found posters scattered about the alleyway, warning about the Radio Demon. Not much was said, just said to stay away and don’t fuck with him. Seemed like propaganda at the time, until he tried to kill me before you two came into the hotel and knocked me out…”

Charlie felt uncomfortable and ashamed when he said that. Eric took notice immediately.

“Hey hey, don’t be upset. If anything, you saved my life from a fate worse than death.”

Charlie gave a small smile in response. She still felt bad but even she knew that what’s done is done.

“Well, when it comes to Alastor,” Vaggie began to speak, “You would be praying for a quick death…”

Eric felt completely uncomfortable once she said that out loud. Charlie seemed to cringe a little bit as well.

"How he was able to receive his own powers of destruction is still a mystery, but the methods speak volumes, metaphorically and literally. He's used his methods of torture and bloodshed to become the methodical madman that he is and would broadcast his murders through his own radio show. That's where the name originated. While it is unsure what his true nature is, one thing is certain; he is an unstoppable entity and can cause more destruction and damage than you can ever imagine."

A brief moment of silence hung in the air, as Eric tried to take in all of this information. Charlie and Vaggie noticed his facial expressions looking somewhat somber, as he held his mouth closed.

"I'm sorry, I just had to warn you about--"

Vaggie was interrupted when she heard Eric sort of snort a little. They looked back at him, this time noticing a faint smile on his face under his hand. It seemed like he was trying not to laugh.

"-snort- I'm sorry," he choked, "just trying to… -snort- understand this…"

Eric contained his laughs as best as he could, trying not to smile or guffaw. He took his hand off and took a deep breath. Then he looked back to the girls with a serious face.

"Okay… is… is that all?"

Charlie and Vaggie looked at each other for a second, somewhat confused.

"Well, that's all to be said about Alas--"

Charlie was interrupted by the unexpected sound of braying laughter that came out of Eric, as he was giggling and guffawing like a madman. The two started at him with blank expressions as he continued to lose his mind with laughter.

"HAHAHAHAAAA! RADIO?! THAT'S WHAT MAKES HIM SUCH A THREAT?! BROADCASTING HIS MURDER SPREE ON THE FUCKING RADIO?! AAAAHAHAHAHA!!!"

Eric was rolling all over the bed, cackling with uproarious laughter, tears flooding his eyes. Charlie and Vaggie were less than impressed. Out in the hallway, Alastor was standing behind the door and had been listening to the conversation the entire time. His smile hardly changed, though his eyes had narrowed in a somewhat annoyed reaction. He didn't bother to stick around any further, but he knew he would have to give Eric a proper show for him to fully understand him and his methods. Back in Eric's room, Eric had been slowing down on his laughing spree, taking the time to finally breathe as Charlie and Vaggie looked at him somewhat irritated. He sat upright on the bed, taking a little more time to breathe and compose himself.

"Okay, I'm alright," he said as he let out a few faint chuckles, "I'm good. Sorry about that."

“I’m sorry but how exactly is that funny,” asked Vaggie, nearly yelling at the top of her lungs.

“Well for one thing, why would the radio be the top choice to broadcast murders?”

Vaggie and Charlie looked at Eric in surprise, almost bewildered that he would ask a question like that.

“I mean on Earth we’ve had numerous shows and movies that would depict death in grisly fashion. And the gore, oh boy, that’s what made the kills good. Especially in horror films. Man, I couldn’t even tell you some of the best kills on stuff like Walking Dead or the Friday the 13th movies or even--”

“WHAT KIND OF FUCKED UP WORLD DO YOU LIVE IN?!”

Eric was surprised by Vaggie’s outburst, realizing he went off on a bit of a tangent.

“Well, on Earth, there are a large number of people that enjoy watching killings in films and TV,” Eric replied calmly, “Most of them are fictional deaths anyway. The same could be said for video games, especially when the players do all the killings.”

Vaggie could only sigh exasperatedly. Charlie looked away somewhat upset. Eric could tell he made things a little too awkward for them.

"-ahem- So what can you tell me about this hotel?"

Charlie's ears perked when she heard him ask that, looking a little excited.

"Ooh yes, this is where it gets interesting," she replied as she began to bounce around.

"This hotel is used to help demons, so instead of suffering or dying in Hell, they can try to redeem themselves and go to Heaven!"

"Huh," mused Eric, "so kind of like a rehabilitation program?"

"In a way, yes," replied Vaggie, "so far we only have one occupant up for redemption, but it hasn't been going 100% well…"

"Well no one said rehabilitation was easy, so I'm sure redemption will be twice if not thrice as hard."

Charlie looked down at her feet, feeling a little depressed over this piece of information. Eric felt a bit guilty for saying that.

"Uhh, b-but I'm sure if everyone is able to work hard and is willing to try to redeem themselves, I'm sure anything is possible."

Charlie began to show a small smile on her lips, looking a little happier than she was before. Vaggie placed her hand on her shoulder, smiling at her with confidence.

"So wait, how exactly did Alastor become involved in this?"

Vaggie took her hand off Charlie's shoulder and took a deep breath to speak.

"A while back, we tried to advertise our hotel on the news," she explained, "needless to say, it didn't go well at all. But when we got back to the hotel, he approached us so he could "help" with running the hotel. But unlike us where we actually WANT to help demons, Alastor would rather watch as they attempt to better themselves only for them to fail miserably…"

"Some investor," replied Eric, "So if that's the case, why do you let him work here?"

"Well, he has been able to help us," replied Charlie, "He brought in Niffty and Husker as our new hires and even stopped another demon from destroying the hotel entirely."

Eric stared blankly at Charlie, somewhat dumbfounded by the response.

“Well that explains even less for me,” said Eric, “A would-be overlord working as a co-manager of a hotel attempting to redeem sinners and demons just for shits and giggles. That’s just fucking dynamite--OUCH!”

Eric flinched in pain, the bruise on his forehead still hurting. He moved the ice pack closer to the spot, feeling the precipitation dripping on his nose slightly.

“Still, if all I have to watch out for is Alastor’s antics, as well as other overlords and demons, all while trying to stay indoors, then I guess I’ll be fine.”

Vaggie looked at Charlie, both sharing the same awkward stare and uncomfortable silence. Eric quickly caught on.

“Oh fuck me running,” he muttered, “What? What else is there now?”

“The Cleansing,” replied Charlie somberly.

“The what now?”

“It’s what happens every year,” Charlie replied, tears flowing out of her eyes.

“At the start of the new year, Heaven sends down its angels to exterminate every demon in Hell with their own set of weaponry, all because of the influx of sinners that continue to increase every day…”

Charlie stopped talking, trying to wipe the tears from her eyes and preventing herself from sobbing her heart out. Eric took notice and ran to the bathroom, grabbing a generic box of tissues from inside and gave the box to her. Vaggie tried to calm her down by massaging her back gently. Charlie took a tissue and wiped the tears off her face, then calmly composed herself.

“Because I’m the Princess of Hell, I wanted to do what’s best for these demons to prevent any more unnecessary deaths. And with Vaggie helping me, we decided to make this hotel a place to help sinners change their ways and help them get into Heaven.”

Eric took this concept in and thought about it for a short while.

_Heaven is willing to exterminate numerous demons in Hell to keep it from overcrowding and Charlie wants to redeem demons for their sins and vices so they can go to Heaven instead. But would those she saved end up coming into Hell to exterminate more demons? Or would Heaven be willing to accept those that have been redeemed and lay off the extermination? Would God even be fine with this all together? How could God or anyone be okay with killing any demon in Hell, especially if they happen to be as wholesome or innocent as Charlie? What kind of God would allow ANY of this to happen altogether?_

The more he tried to wrap his head around it all, the more pain his head was enduring. He flinched as he felt a rather sharper throb of pain hit his forehead.

“Eric, are you alright,” asked Charlie as she tried to comfort him.

Eric shook his head slightly, rubbing the side of his head with one hand and holding the melting ice pack with the other.

“My brain hurts,” he replied in a comically moronic voice.

“Oh no, you don’t have a concussion, do you,” she asked with great concern.

“No no,” Eric chuckled, “I was just messing around. I was referencing an old sketch. But I’m still trying to let this all sink in as best as I can…”

“Well, we’ll give you a little more time to rest up. Maybe a shower will help clear your mind a little.”

“That would probably be best,” he replied as he stood up and took the ice pack off of his head, “Uh, any idea where I could put my laundry?”

“We’ll have Niffty come by to take your clothes to clean them,” replied Vaggie, “Do you have any spare clothing?”

“Yeah, in my bag. I’ll leave my dirty clothes by the bed for her and put on my other set when I’m done.”

Charlie nodded and was ready to leave the room, as Vaggie was about to follow her out. Eric took the chance to take off his t-shirt, revealing his farmer’s tan and hairy chest.

“Oh before I forget,” said Charlie as she spun around, “Vaggie, Angel, and I are going to go grocery shopping. Is there anything you’d like us to pick up for you?”

“Ohh, I wouldn’t want to impose anythi--”

“Eric, it’s perfectly fine,” interrupted Charlie, “You’re living with us, surely you’ll need a few amenities and some food.”

Eric felt a bit of a burden having them to buy stuff for him, but he knew there wasn’t much he could do considering his own predicament.

“Well, I could use some deodorant… Uh maybe a toothbrush and toothpaste… Some shampoo maybe... “

Eric took a little time to think of what else he would want or need during his stay here, as Charlie wrote everything down on her clipboard.

“Some smokes if it’s not too much to ask… I guess maybe some deli meat like some capicola and buffalo chicken…”

“Okay… Anything else,” asked Charlie as she continued writing up the list.

“No, I think that’s it.”

As Charlie looked over the list, Eric pulled out his wallet and sifted through several tens, twenties, and fifties inside. After contemplating the amount, he decided to pull out roughly a hundred dollars and tried to give it to the girls, only to find Charlie’s hand on Eric’s in response.

“That won’t be necessary,” said Charlie as she pushed the money away.

Eric looked at her in disbelief. He was trying to pay for his stuff and she’s just refusing the money. He felt a bit guilty letting her do this.

“Are you sure,” he asked with concern, “I don’t want to make you guys pay so much for my stuff.”

Charlie only shook her head gently and patted his hand in reply. Eric still felt guilty, but only smiled in response as he placed the money back in his wallet.

“Well, we better get going,” said Charlie, “I’ll go find Angel, see if he’s ready to go.”

As Charlie left the room, Eric noticed Vaggie didn’t follow her. There was an uncomfortable silence as she turned around to face Eric.

“Before we leave, I need to say a few things to you,” she said, looking deadly serious.

Eric said nothing but only nodded cautiously, feeling concerned about what she had to say.

“First off, I want you to understand that Charlie can be a bit naive, but you will not try to take advantage of her in any way. I know you’re far from home, but that doesn’t mean you will take advantage of her hospitality as you see fit.”

“Whoa, hey, I had no intention of taking advantage of anyone,” Eric replied, his hands up as if being interrogated.

“Secondly, I don’t want you to get too friendly with Charlie. I know she’s beautiful and friendly, but she’s still the owner of this hotel.”

“Okay, I got it, don’t screw with the boss,” Eric replied, somewhat annoyed.

“I say that because I’m more than just her friend and I don’t want you trying to but in with your “angel” comments.”

Eric felt somewhat confused by what she meant, but then he remembered what he had said to Charlie earlier.

_**“You’re such a wonderful angel.”** _

_OH SHIT._

“Oh my god, I didn’t mean anything by that,” exclaimed Eric, “I was so fucked up, I literally thought she was an angel! I must’ve had one hell of a hallucination, I am so sorry!”

Vaggie’s frown slowly changed to a small smile, acknowledging his apology. But her smile dropped when she moved in closer, her single eye looking dead straight into his eyes.

“The last thing you need to know is very crucial,” she said in a low voice, “It’s about Alastor.”

“If you mean avoid him at all costs, I’m way ahead of yo--”

“It’s a lot more than that,” Vaggie interrupted, “Alastor is more than just a dangerous sociopath. He’s smart enough to sucker anyone into making a deal with him, even if it means their very soul on the line.”

This new information was enough to scare Eric, that sinking feeling hitting his chest again. Vaggie then approached Eric by grabbing his shoulders.

“Listen to me very carefully. Do NOT make a deal with Alastor. It could cost you your life, your soul, everything. Overlords are not meant to be taken lightly when it comes to making deals with them and Alastor is no exception. Please, be very careful around him!”

Eric was now feeling more uncomfortable than he was before. Not only was Alastor a dangerous being but could practically make his life a living nightmare if he ever made a deal with him. Eric took a deep breath and spoke up.

“I’ll try my best not to let that happen,” he replied.

“I’m serious, Eric,” said Vaggie, “Even if he promises to send you home himself, don’t take any of his offers.”

“...Alright Vaggie, I promise.”

Vaggie slowly released her grip on Eric’s shoulders, then gave a small smile in response.

“VAGGIE! WE’RE READY TO GO! WHERE ARE YOU?”

Vaggie turned to the door, hearing Charlie’s voice from down the hallway.

“I’ll be there in a second,” she yelled to reply then turned back to Eric, “We’ll be back later. Just remember what I said and please be careful.”

Eric waved her goodbye as she left the room and shut the door behind her. He proceeded to take off his clothes and made his way to the bathroom to take a shower. Inside the shower were bottles of shampoo and conditioner, larger than the trial or travel-sized bottles regular hotels would leave. He switched on the shower and let it warm up as he prepared a set of towels on a nearby towel rack. As the shower was steaming up, he stepped in and rinsed himself with the warm water. Even though the shower was average-sized, the water felt almost soothing. It was almost like it was one of those expensive showers he had seen on TV. As he lathered a bar of soap, he began to hum a few bars of an old song he remembered. As he placed the soap lather on his lower body and scrubbed, he began to sing out loud.

Eric:  
Folks, now here’s the story about Minnie The Moocher…

He readied another lather for his face.

Eric:  
She was a red-hot hoochie-coocher…

He applied the soap lather on his face, keeping his eyes closed and kept singing.

Eric:  
She was the roughest, toughest frail…

He spread the lather around his face, nose, ears, and neckline.

Eric:  
But Minnie had a heart as big as a whale.

He grabbed the bar of soap and scrubbed his armpits.

Eric:  
Ho-dee-ho-dee-ho-dee-ho!

He hummed the chorus line as continued scrubbing.

Eric:  
Hi-dee-hi-dee-hi-dee-hi!

He hummed again as he let the water rinse off the soap from his body.

Eric:  
Hee-dee-hee-dee-hee-dee-hee!

With the soap off of his face, he grabbed a bottle of shampoo and applied some to his hair and beard, humming one more time.

Eric:  
Ho-dee- _hoooooo_ -dee-hoo.

Humming the last chorus bracket, Eric began to lather and scrub in the shampoo. As he hummed and whistled the rest of the song while cleaning himself up, he failed to notice someone had entered the bathroom during his time. Alastor has sneaked inside to listen to Eric’s mediocre attempt at a classic song by a late legend. Needless to say, he wasn’t impressed. He was lucky not to even see him through the steamy fog of the shower glass. Taking a glance at the steam on the mirror, Alastor planned another trick all while listening to another bad chorus bracket attempt.

Eric:  
Ah-hi-dee-hi-dee-hi-dee-hi-dee-hi!<

Alastor slid his finger as carefully along the bathroom mirror, trying not to lose control through the lackluster singing.

Eric:  
Oh-ho-dee-ho-dee-ho-dee-ho-dee-hooo!

An amateur like him couldn’t even wear Calloway’s spats…

Eric:  
Scoodily-boo-scoodily-boo-scoodily-boodily-boodily-boo!

Not bad, could use a little work there…

Eric:  
Zip-dee-diddly-bop-dee--DAAH FUCK, MY EYE!

The sudden scream surprised Alastor a little as he was finishing up sketching on the mirror. In the shower, Eric had a little lather hit his left eye, as he immediately let the water flow onto his eye to alleviate the pain. Alastor felt somewhat relieved he wouldn’t have to hear the botched attempt of singing any further. As he finished up his work, he heard Eric grumbling in the shower. As he was exiting the bathroom, Eric had shut off the water and was ready to leave the shower. As he got out, he grabbed the towel and carefully dried himself off. The towel was a little thin but had some thick fibers to keep him dry. As he was drying off, his left eye was still bothering him. He rubbed his eyes as he walked to the sink, switching on the cold water and splashing his eye repetitively. The coldness of the water helped calm the redness in his eye. As he reeled his head back up, he noticed something strange. The mirror had traced imagery of a pair of radio dials and a sharp grin, practically resembling that of Alastor’s own face. Eric, frustrated over Alastor’s pranks, wiped the steam graffiti off with his own hand, bringing his reflection out.

“Gonna take a lot more than that to try and scare me, asshole,” muttered Eric.

With the mirror clear of the steam, Eric proceeded to dry himself off and adjust his image. He grabbed a brush from the side of the sink and brushed his hair a little. It was as straight as it could be but still hung down to be a little loose. He used the same brush to try and straighten his beard a little. It looked better than how his hair looked, albeit a few strands sticking up here and there. He continued drying himself off, from his chest all the way to his head. His hair was somewhat slicked back, while his beard was a little more scraggly than before. He ignored it all and walked out of the bathroom, but not before shutting off the light. But the second he hit the lights, he was scared to see something in the mirror.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!”

What he saw was the smiling graffiti that Alastor had left behind was glowing in the dark in an eerie red color. It was almost like he permanently placed it there to be seen even at night. Eric placed his boxers on and proceeded to the door and yelled outside down the hall.<

“ALASTOR, YOU MOTHERFUCKER! GET THAT SHIT OFF OF MY MIRROR, YOU BASTARD!”

Slamming his door shut, Eric walked to his bag and proceeded to pull out a safety green t-shirt and a spare pair of pants. While digging inside his bag, he noticed his bag of spare USB chargers was open and grabbed a dual wall mount and placed one charger in it. He then whipped out his phone and let the charger cord do the rest. He also noticed his old iPod was inside and pulled it out to listen to his music. Digging further inside, he found his Bluetooth speaker and earphones, deciding which one to use. Thinking carefully, he placed the earphones back and turned on his speaker, lowering the volume slightly.

He skimmed through his playlists on his iPod and found the best artist to listen to while relaxing; Black Sabbath. He switched over, chose his song, and let “Sabbath Bloody Sabbath” play on as he relaxed. He considered checking his phone while listening, but he felt like just taking the time to rest before the three came back with the groceries. So, he took the time to enjoy a calm atmosphere with his own selection of music.

_You've seen life through distorted eyes_  
_You know you had to learn_  
_The execution of your mind_  
_You really had to turn_  
_The race is run the book is read_  
_The end begins to show_  
_The truth is out, the lies are old_  
_But you don't want to know_

Halfway into the song, he felt like he was nodding off. He tried to keep his eyes open, even after Ozzy was shouting the words “YOU BASTARDS”, but he felt himself drifting out. Then the next song began to play, “Into The Void”. He felt at ease as the first few seconds began to play and began to nap into the song. To Eric, it was almost relaxing. And after everything he went through, he practically deserved it. 

As he was resting, the door slowly opened until a familiar set of eyes shone from outside. It watched Eric sleeping soundly but felt almost uncomfortable with the sounds of discord playing on the speaker by the bed. Opening the door further, Alastor began to walk inside the room, cautiously walking up to Eric’s body. He reached his hand out and gently slid his finger by Eric’s neck, but Eric hardly felt a thing.

Alastor could only smile his own smile as he looked down on the human laying before him. Any other demon could’ve taken an opportunity to kill him in his sleep so easily. One quick stab at the throat or the heart would’ve been quick and easy. Bit of a mess but effective. A bullet to the head was even easier, albeit noisy though. Suffocation was an even better option; grab a spare pillow and apply firmly. Let the air drain out of his system until he is limp. Or a simple yet strong grip on the throat would suffice as well. See the young man’s eyes bulge and his face get red, attempting poorly to breathe through the grip.

But Alastor did nothing. He had an opportunity before but he wanted to enjoy his pranks on the young man as much as he wanted. And it would seem unfair to try anything untoward him without reason. Besides, Charlotte and Vagatha would be very displeased and unpleasant if that were to happen. Mustn’t do anything to hurt the young man, he is our guest. Why who knows? Maybe he’ll warm up to Alastor, be good friends.

The mere thought of the idea only let out a silent chuckle from Alastor, trying his best not to wake up Eric. No, he was willing to leave him for now. Could try more pranks later on down the road. The human still has a long time before he can even go home, so he might as well get used to what goes on in the hotel, especially with Alastor present.

 _This could be very_ **_entertaining,,,_**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I'm a mixed bag when it comes to music. I like some of Cab Calloway's songs and even a good amount of Black Sabbath. So bear that in mind in future chapters.
> 
> Also, I ship Charlie and Vaggie because it's just natural. No disrespect to any of those that ship Charlie with Alastor or Vaggie with Alastor or any other ship similar.
> 
> Also, 10 points if you got the 'My Brain Hurts' reference.


	5. Dine In or Take Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eric gets a bit of time to help make dinner with Angel. But loose lips sink ships, especially when you have eavesdroppers around...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little longer than the last few I made. Been meaning to work with these ideas for some time, making sure to flesh out certain things here and there.
> 
> Also, BIG thanks to everyone who left their kudos and their comments on my previous chapters. I appreciate your input and positive feedback. To those that left suggestions, I do have some ideas of what I plan to do but your suggestions helped inspire some good concepts to work with down the road.
> 
> Anywho, enjoy this next chapter!

### Chapter 5 - Dine In Or Take Out

Eric slept through his music, yet the room was silent as his playlist reached its end. He snored gently within his own room, unaware of the visitation of the Radio Demon or of the amount of time passed. It seemed all too peaceful for him. And it wasn't long until his peace was ruined as darkness filled the room, almost like smoke brewing from a fire. Furniture had disappeared, personal items vanished, all exits destroyed. All that was left was Eric floating in thin air, as the bed he slept on had disappeared in the dark void. As soon as it was all gone, his slumbering body fell down hard on the ground, waking him up.

"What the fuck… Where am I? What happened?"

His voice echoed throughout the vacant vicinity. No walls, no doors, no windows, no people or even any demons to be found. He was all alone.

"HELLO!"

His scream only amplified as the echo reached further away than he expected. But no one could be heard or seen.

"CHARLIE! VAGGIE! ANYONE!"

The echoes continued onward but no other sight or sound was sought. Eric felt a chill down his spine, fearful of his predicament. He hated to be alone, especially in a place where there was a great level of uncertainty and no one could be found. He felt like a child lost in a maze.

"He's here…"

A voice was heard from a distance, as Eric whipped his head around, trying to find the source. There was no echo to follow it nor was there a person to be seen.

"The human…"

Eric spun his head around again, trying to find the voices and who they were, but there was still no sight or sound.

"Get the human…"

Those words were caught in repetition, but not in an echo as Eric was expecting, but in almost a chant by other voices. Fearing for his life, he ran in a random direction, as the voices grew louder.

"Get him!"

"Get the human!"

"Take his soul!"

"Take his life!"

The voices continued their demands, as Eric ran for his life, praying for some sort of resolution. As he ran, he saw red outlines forming from his path, as they began to form into shapes of various monsters and demons, eyes glowing red as they watched him, their chants getting louder and more demanding.

_PLEASE DON'T LET ME DIE. FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, SOMEONE HELP ME!_

Eric's thoughts were running as fast as he was, trying to find some sort of salvation. But soon his hopes were shown down the end of his path, as the hotel was shining down the far end with the signs lights and spotlights burned bright. He smiled with relief and kept on running with newfound determination. But the voices weren't as enthralled.

"STOP HIM!"

"KILL HIM!

"DON'T LET HIM IN!”

He began to shift his run into a sprint, as he saw hands and claws trying to reach out for him during his endeavor towards the hotel. Every swipe and attempted clutch nearly threw Eric off of his speed, momentum, and his concentration of his goal. The closer he got, the closer they got. As he got closer to the hotel, he could hear music playing from inside. From his venture further towards it, he could hear it was loud jazz music playing, something familiar yet nostalgic. The anticipation to reach his safe haven grew closer as the demons reached further. He was so close he could see a familiar silhouette from the front doors, a young woman with long hair.

“Hurry Eric! Before it’s too late!”

Eric heard Charlie’s voice in what felt like an echo like she was in a tunnel or a cave. He ran as best as he could, passing by more and more hands and claws that tried to grab him. Soon he felt himself running slower than he wanted. The hands were behind him now, still reaching out for him. He inched closer and closer to the hotel, reaching his hand out for the doors. He found himself caught by his ankles as two sets of hands were clamped down, gripping him for dear life as he tried to get closer to the door. Eric fell to the ground as he was roughly five feet away from the doors.

“You’re almost there, Eric! Don’t give up!”

Eric found himself crawling his way to the entrance, the silhouette of Charlie placing her hands on the windows of the doors. He could hear the music of old-time jazz playing from inside, the sounds of a clarinet playing wildly. Eric clawed his way on the ground to get inside. The voices of the demons were all screaming, yelling incoherently, their voices echoing fiercely as he got closer. They tried to pull him away but he wouldn’t stop or let go. He managed to inch his way to the doors, ready to reach for the doorknob. Suddenly, the doors opened inward, as Eric could see the figure that was inside was not Charlie at all. The tall figure walked out with his microphone and a wide smile.

“Alastor?!”

Indeed, Alastor stood before Eric as he smiled down upon him, his eyes half-lidded, his smile looking as wicked as ever. He slowly walked over towards Eric, as the sounds of the demons behind him were now beginning to laugh.

“ _ **Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel…**_ ”

Alastor’s voice echoed throughout the void, despite it not coming from Alastor himself. It was like a faint memory. He stopped until he was roughly a foot away from Eric, never losing sight of him the whole time. Then Alastor took a quick twirl around, suddenly morphing into a different demon. This new figure swung around and faced Eric, looking down on him with a similar demeanor. He wore a white suit and white top hat, golden blonde hair, bearing his grin with rosy cheeks and a sharp set of yellow teeth. He held a cane with an apple on top in his left hand.

“Lu-Lucifer…”

His smile grew wider as he stared down at Eric, then pulled out a silver and gold magnum revolver in his right hand, cocking the hammer with ease, and pointed the barrel directly in Eric’s face. Eric felt a great amount of fear hit his heart like a stone, eyes widened with fear. The sounds of laughter ceased when Alastor’s voice rang out in the void once more.

“ _ **Enjoy your stay…**_ ”

**BANG!**

* * *

Eric shot up from the bed, a few beads of sweat rolling down his forehead. He panted somewhat heavily, trying to regain his composure. He found himself still safe and sound in his hotel room. He wiped the sweat off his head and laid back down with a sigh, rubbing his eyes with one hand. He felt a hand on his chest, which he thought was his own.

“Sleep well, sugar~?”

“FUCKING CHRIST!”

Eric rolled off the bed in a quick jolt, falling on his ass. He looked up to see Angel Dust resting on the bed, staring at Eric in his flirtatious manner.

“Fallin’ for me already, sweetheart,” asked Angel with a cocky grin.

Eric could only sigh exasperatedly, bringing himself up off the floor and dusting himself off.

“I’d prefer if you didn’t invade my privacy,” he said in an aggravated tone, “Let alone trying to pull off your sex-induced shenanigans.”

“Aww, did the baby get up on the wrong side of the bed,” joked Angel with a pouty face, as he turned himself over and kicked his legs up in a playful manner.

Eric looked back at him with a cold stare, already annoyed by his jokes.

“Look, I already have one asshole to deal with,” Eric said as he walked around the bed, “I don’t need to deal with TWO assholes.”

“Oh relax, Sevvy, I don’t bite… hard…”

Eric gave him another cold stare, arms crossed. Angel only stuck his tongue out in response. He then positioned himself in a seated position on the bed.

“Anywho, I came by because we have business to attend to…”

“Business,” asked Eric, “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Oh, have we forgotten already? You owe me a little bit of your time and energy, Sevvy!”

Eric was getting annoyed at the guessing game Angel was putting him through. And the ‘Sevvy’ nickname was getting kinda annoying too…

“Why don’t you just spit it out already because I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” snapped Eric as the frustration mounted.

Angel’s smile faded to an exasperated sigh, as he stood up from the bed and walked over to Eric to meet him face to face, looking down at him from his own taller height.

“You are helpin’ me make baked ziti for tonight,” replied Angel, “You know, the ziti that you stole last night?”

Eric finally remembered exactly what Angel meant as he recalled his promise to help. He finally nodded in reply.

“That’s right,” he said, “I almost forgot about that. I do owe you a baked ziti.”

“Damn straight you do,” replied Angel as he poked Eric’s nose.

“Now shake a leg and get to the kitchen! We're gonna make some fuckin’ ziti!”

Angel dashed out the door as Eric looked a bit confused. Why would they make ziti now? What time is it? Eric took out his phone and saw the time; 4:12 pm… fuck. He took the chance to turn the volume back up on his phone so he wouldn’t miss anything.

Eric took a bit of time making his way to the kitchen, passing by Niffty as she was erratically dusting the lights on the walls. She waved back for a quick moment before continuing her process. Eric spotted the familiar set of double doors and walked inside. There he saw Angel preparing a pot of water on the stove then moving to the table to open roughly four cans of crushed tomatoes in a mid-size pot. Near the cans were some onions, a pack of ground beef, a saute pan near the beef, a jar of crushed garlic, a bottle of olive oil, two small cans of tomato paste, some rosemary, and a small set of basil leaves. He held two cans of crushed tomatoes with his lower arms and held two can openers on them with his upper arms. As he was opening the cans slowly, he noticed Eric by the doors.

“Took you long enough,” he said, “While I get the cans dealt with, cut up these onions in thin slices. Cuttin’ board’s up top there and the knives are in the drawer below.”

Eric went over towards the cupboards and found an old cutting board to use. He looked below to find a large set of knives, mostly larger knives including a butcher’s cleaver and bread knives. He closed the drawer and saw another drawer filled with knives, this time smaller ones. After sifting through steak knives and deboning knives, he finally found a knife small enough for onions. Taking his tools, Eric moved across from Angel and began peeling off the onion’s shell. One the shell was gone, he prepared for the onion’s odor as he could feel it permeating from each slice he made. Tears welled up in his eyes, annoyed by the bitter odor and its effect. Angel only chuckled as he managed to have two cans prepared for the sauce and worked on the next two cans. Eric finished cutting the onions into little pieces and placed the items down and wiped his eyes in frustration, earning another chuckle from Angel.

“S’matter, can’t handle cooking real food in a kitchen,” asked Angel jokingly.

Eric ignored his comment and grabbed the saute pan and placed it on the stove next to the boiling water. As he turned on the stove for the pan, he looked over to see the water hadn’t fully boiled yet. Shrugging it off, he took the olive oil and onions and placed them in the pan as it was cooking. He then took a small spoon and dropped a few bits of crushed garlic in the pan, letting it all cook together. He was about to grab the ground beef but saw Angel was coming from behind him, holding the beef in his upper arms while holding a wooden spoon in his lower left hand.

“I got the beef,” Angel said, “Just get the cans of tomato paste opened and the herbs on standby.”

Eric nodded in response, as he grabbed one of the can openers and took to opening the first can of tomato paste. With a few quick turns, he got the first can opened and made his way to the second can.

"So, how long have you been in the hotel," asked Eric.

"Roughly a year, I'd say," replied Angel, "The girls approached me while I was workin' the streets one night. Offered me a chance at redemption and all. Of course, it was more of an offer to be a guinea pig, but hey I couldn’t pass up for free room and board.”

Eric felt a bit surprised to know he was chosen to be up for redemption. Considering his lifestyle, it seemed like it was going to be a bit of a challenge. He was lost in his thoughts for a short while until he realized he had the second can opened. He placed the lids out of the way and walked over towards Angel as he was cooking the beef.

“So, do you actually believe you could be redeemable,” asked Eric.

Angel hardly lost his concentration on the cooking but Eric could tell he was thinking about it. Then Angel smirked slightly and gave out a faint chuckle.

“Me, redeemable,” he replied, “That’s a good joke if I ever heard one.”

“You mean you don’t think you could ever go to Heaven?”

“Well I’ll be honest with you, Sevvy. I think my chances of getting out of Hell and plucking that golden harp are as slim as me not suckin’ dick constantly. Pass me the crushed tomatoes, would ya?”

To Eric, he felt like there was little to no motivation in going through Charlie’s plan whatsoever. But he let it go for now as he grabbed the cans of tomatoes for him. Angel took two cans and poured them into the saute pan, letting it all soak within the meat and all.

“I dunno,” replied Eric, “Compared to someone like Alastor, I’d put my money on you riding off with your own set of wings.”

Angel let out a good chuckle in response while getting the next set of cans to pour in the pan.

“I think everyone would be surprised to see the strawberry pimp make his way into tha’ pearly gates,” he said as he stirred everything in the pan.

The two shared a good laugh as Eric walked over and grabbed the set of herbs on the table. Angel took the herbs out of Eric’s hands and gently mixed it all together. Eric noticed the pot of water fully boiled, as he grabbed the box of ziti pasta and poured it all in the pot. He then grabbed a nearby set of salt and shook some into the pot as it cooked.

“Speaking of Smiles,” Angel began to say as he stirred, “How are you handlin’ his mischief?”

“I’d prefer if he’d stay ten feet away from me,” Eric replied coldly, “Even better if he’d get a car and drive to the next hellhole.”

“Yeah, good luck with that. He’s here to ‘help out’ in his own way.”

“I wouldn’t trust that motherfucker to run an old folks home,” Eric replied as he stirred the pasta, “Hell, he’s the kind of guy that would poison his own mother just for kicks.”

“Whoa whoa, hold on there,” retorted Angel, “Let’s not bring in anybody’s motha’ into the conversation.”

“Oh yeah, I should have a limit on ball-busting,” snapped Eric, “But a fucknut freakshow ringleader like Alastor should get a free pass for his shit.”

Angel could tell Eric was in no mood to talk anything positive about Alastor, as he noticed he was spinning the pasta water a bit faster than anyone should.

“Oh sure, I shouldn’t have to say how much his mother would be spinning in her own fucking grave for how well she raised her bastard child and how much of a hackneyed hellraiser he is all together, tormenting any innocent lives he may have encountered along the way.”

Eric’s anger grew as did the pasta stirring, as some of the water was beginning to spill off the sides.

“I probably shouldn’t have to say how much that poor old biddy fucked up big time for bringing up that miserable shitlicker and making him the notorious edgelord that he is now, parading his satanic authority here in Hell while making my time completely fucking miserable!”

Eric stopped his stirring and tossed the spoon on the counter, letting the pasta sit as best as it could. He placed his hands on the counter, taking a moment to finally breathe after going on his rage-filled rant. Angel could tell he was pretty fucking angry from his stance and his vacant stare.

“Fuck him and his whore of a mother… End of fucking story…”

Angel turned the heat down a smidge on the stove for the sauce and meat, giving him a chance to calm Eric down.

“I know he can be a real creepy fuck, but you just need to take it easy,” he said as he used his upper arms to gently massage his shoulders.

“As long as he’s here, there’s no way for me to take it easy,” replied Eric as he slumped his shoulders.

“I’m no psychoanalyst or whateva’, but maybe it’s his way of opening up to you or somethin’,” said Angel.

Eric could only turn his head around slowly towards Angel, his left eyebrow raised up, his lip in a sneer.

“Hey, you neva’ know! I’ve been tryin’a get into a conversation with him a couple of times but he avoids me like the plague every otha’ time.”

“Were they actual conversations or just pick up lines,” asked Eric.

“There’s a difference?”

Eric could only chuckle while facepalming at his response.

“Hey, I can’t help it! I work in the sex business, it’s practically my bread an’ butta’!”

Eric could only chuckle again as he made his way back to the pasta, grabbing the spoon and checking on the texture as it cooked. Angel resumed cooking the sauce and meat. He sipped on a serving spoon he left on the side, confirming the flavor of the sauce. He scooped up a little and moved it towards Eric’s face. Eric noticed and took a small sip, nodding his head over the taste. With this confirmed, Angel switched off the stovetop for the sauce. Eric took a piece of ziti and ate it, feeling the soft texture of the pasta.

“Ready for the baking process,” asked Eric as he stopped stirring.

“Just need the oven preheated first,” replied Angel as he pressed the buttons on the stovetop, confirming the oven temperature for 350 degrees.

“While I mix in the pasta with the sauce, get the parmesan and muzzarell’ out of the fridge so we can work out the laya’s.”

Eric nodded and walked to the fridge. As he opened it, he noticed it had a little more stock inside from produce to drinks. He searched around inside and managed to find the two cheeses, bringing them onto the cutting board on the table. As he was cutting up the mozzarella into small chunks, he looked over to see Angel taking a straining spoon and dumping each scoopful of pasta into the saute pan. He even overheard him humming an old tune as he stirred up everything inside, mixing the sauce and pasta together. Eric smiled as he continued cutting up the mozzarella, as he managed it all cut into chunks.

“Hey Angel, where can I find the cheese grater,” asked Eric.

“Top cabinet, far left side,” replied Angel, as he continued to hum.

Eric walked over and opened the far left cabinet, pulling out a large grater with multiple sized slots.

“How do you want the parmesan to be grated,” asked Eric as he made his way back to the table.

“Smallest set,” replied Angel as he tasted the sauce and ziti, “I prefer to make it snow on the ziti when I make it.”

Eric nodded and prepared a bowl for the parmesan, then proceeded to shred the cheese thoroughly in the bowl.

“How much do you want, by the way,” asked Eric as he grated.

“Just fill up the bowl for now,” Angel replied, “I like a lot of parmesan on my pasta.”

Eric nodded and continued to grate. Slowly but surely, the bowl began to fill up with the parmesan, much to the relief of Eric’s wrist. He watched Angel walk over to the lower cabinets and pull out a large baking dish. Using the spoon for the pasta, he dug into the pan and pulled out a heaping amount of sauce, meat, and ziti. The scoop also a piece of basil that was buried under all of the contents. Holding the dish with his lower hands, Angel used his upper left hand and began to pour a layer of pasta and sauce inside. Eric walked over with the set of mozzarella and waited until Angel was ready for it, watching him spread the contents around inside the dish and carefully placing the basil dead center.

“Alright, gimme the muzzarell’,” said Angel as he held the dish out for Eric.

Eric complied and poured a couple of chunks on top of the pasta. Angel smiled as he watched Eric cover most of the pasta with the cheese chunks. Saving the rest, Eric then grabbed the bowl of shredded parmesan and proceeded to cover the rest of the top with it, making a great layer of snowy cheese. Angel raised his free hand up to stop him and began scooping more pasta on top of the cheesy layer. He managed to scoop up the last few pieces of ziti and began pouring the last few scoops of meaty sauce on top. He then signaled Eric to pour more cheese on, as Eric covered the second layer with the last of the mozzarella then the last of the shredded parmesan, only to find there wasn’t enough coverage.

“Better grab the parm and shredder,” said Angel as he placed the baking dish on the counter.

Eric nodded as he walked back to the table and grabbed the two, only stopping for a second when he thought he saw something or someone by the windows on the kitchen doors. He shrugged and brought the items to the dish, shredding more cheese on top. As he was shredding, Angel felt his phone vibrating from his pocket, as he pulled it out and looked at it for a short moment. His smile diminished as he was reading a message on his phone. Eric looked back at him, noticing him deeply staring into his phone for a moment, then pocketing back into his pocket. He turned back and continued to shred for a little while until Angel stopped him.

“Here, let me handle it,” said Angel as he gently took the cheese and shredder from Eric.

Eric released his grip and watched Angel furiously shred the cheese on top of the dish, going much faster than Eric could by himself. He watched the spider demon in astonishment, noticing how he wasn’t even sweating from the amount of cheese he was shredding. He also noticed the pile was looking pretty high up. He looked back at Angel’s face, noticing a look of anger in his eyes, a small sneer on his lip as it exposed a glisten from his gold tooth.

“I uh think that’s enough cheese for the ziti, Angel,” said Eric as he gently tapped on Angel’s shoulder.

Angel barely listened to him as he continued to shred the cheese, as it looked like it was getting closer to the end.

“Angel, are you listening?”

Angel was shredding almost faster now, his face looking angrier, the cheese already close to the end as it was piling further on top of the baking dish.

“ANGEL, STOP IT!”

Eric shook Angel from his shoulders, as he finally snapped out of what seemed to be a trance, frozen in position. He held the small nub parmesan and the shredder with unsteady hands. Eric noticed a vacant stare in Angel’s eyes, almost looking scared and uneasy.

“Angel, are you alright?”

Angel looked back at Eric, his face hardly changed. Eric felt a bit uneasy looking back at him.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he replied nonchalantly, “Can you pop this in the oven and let it cook for thirty minutes? I gotta check on somethin’...”

“Angel wait!”

Before he could say anything else, Angel tossed the items onto the counter and dashed out of the kitchen, leaving Eric all alone. Eric felt almost like something happened and wanted to help him out, but it seemed like Angel wanted to be alone for some reason. Whatever that reason is, he hoped it wasn’t too serious…

“Damn,” he mumbled, “So much cheese wasted…”

Eric looked around for a set of Ziploc bags and managed to find a set inside a cabinet near him. He took a gallon bag and proceeded to scoop the excess parmesan inside, then placed the parm nub inside with the rest. After sealing the bag, Eric then took the baking dish and placed it into the oven, then set the timer for thirty minutes. Looking around the kitchen, Eric noticed the saute pan still had plenty of sauce and meat inside, so he grabbed a spoon and tasted the mixture itself.

“Mmm damn that’s good,” he said as he ate his spoonful.

“I hope there’s enough for everyone!”

“FUCK!”

Eric did a double-take while dropping his spoon, as he saw Alastor standing by the kitchen doors, bearing the same shit-eating grin as always while holding his microphone in his right hand. Eric could only groan at the sight of him, as well as dropping the spoon he had used for tasting.

“Great, you’re here now,” said Eric in a deadpan tone.

“Yes,” replied Alastor in his chipper way, “I came to see how the dinner progress was. Although I happened to see Angel walk out of the kitchen. Probably best he didn’t make another mess.”

“Hey, Angel did most of the work on the dish here,” replied Eric, “Besides, something came up. He got a text on his phone. Not sure what it was, but he got pretty riled up from it.”

Alastor noticed the Ziploc bag of the parmesan cheese on the table, showing the excess shreddings and the worn-down nub left inside.

“I suppose that’s putting it lightly,” said Alastor with a faint chuckle under his breath.

“Anywho, I have something for you.”

Eric was placing the dirty spoon in the sink but took the time to look at Alastor questionably. What he had couldn’t be good news. Alastor whipped his left hand up and twirled it to reveal a sealed white envelope, with ‘Eric Severino’ written on the front.

“A message just for you,” said Alastor as he brought the envelope towards him.

Eric looked at it hesitantly but decided to just take it so he could get Alastor off of his back. Looking at it closely, Eric noticed there was no return address or stamp anywhere on it. He looked back at Alastor questionably, who had only smiled back a little wider. Rolling his eyes, Eric decided to just open it to humor him. As he did, he noticed there was no paper or note or anything significant. As he reached inside, he found a small square card and pulled it out to see. It was a simple card with a number on it.

‘15’

Confused, Eric found another square card with a number on it as well.

‘14’

What the fuck is this?

He pulled out another card, revealing another number.

‘13’

This was too strange to even understand. His patience was worn thin when he pulled out the next card.

“Twelve? What the fuck is going on?”

Before he could even pull out another card or do anything else, a thought crept in his head; these were all going backward from fifteen. Usually, that’s something for a countdown. But what could the countdown be? He looked back at Alastor, whose smile was looking wickedly wider, while his eyes began to glow a set of numbers.

“ _ **Eleven…**_ ”

Eric felt his heart sink, as the familiar quivering fear crept up his spine. He could tell this wasn’t something pleasant and took the only course of action he could. Dropping the envelope and cards, Eric dashed out of the kitchen and out towards the lobby. There, he could see Husk taking a stiff drink from the bar, barely noticing him there. He knew he couldn’t ask him for help between his soon-to-be drunken stupor and how he still owed him a scotch. The closet was another useless idea since the door was broken off and it would be too obvious to try again. And forget about hiding in any of the hotel rooms, even in his own room. Alastor would know this place like the back of his hand. Time was running out for him. There was only one solution: GET OUT OF THIS FUCKING HOTEL. While not the best decision, it was the only way he could try to avoid him. Running out the front doors, Eric found himself back outside in the city. Thankfully there was no one around to see him, so he proceeded to dart towards the alleyway. However, a strange figure had been skulking around from a neighboring roof, out of sight from anyone below. He saw Eric run down the alleyway and decided to follow him.

Eric ran through the old alleyway, trying to think of how to avoid Alastor until it could all blow over. Why was Alastor even trying to go after him? Was there something he knew? Did he have some sort of vendetta? Is trying to hunt him down for sport or for sustenance? These thoughts and several others were all racing through Eric’s mind. But these thoughts clouded his own sight, as he could barely see what was in front of him, not even the set of legs laying on the ground. He then found himself tripping over the legs, falling face-first on the ground.

“OWW! What the fuck was that?!”

Eric’s heart froze as he heard a familiar voice, he turned around and looked to see the coyote demon staring back at him. His red eyes widened at the sight of him, scowling in great anger.

“YOU! I knew I’d find you again, you motherfucker!”

Eric cursed under his breath and picked himself back up, trying to run down the alleyway. He could hear the howling of the coyote demon nearly echoing throughout the vicinity. From above, the figure could see Eric running further down while the coyote demon and several other vagrant demons were following him. A faint gleam came from his face, almost shining from a set of spectacles or goggles.

“Hmm… this is gonna be good…”

The figure continued to follow the chase. Eric, meanwhile, was feeling his heart beating rapidly as he continued running for his life in what seemed to be added in triple-fold. He tried going through as many turns as he could, only to find more vagrants blocking his paths. As he turned down a corner, he could see it lead to a dead end. All that was to be seen was a large brick wall with graffiti all around and a couple of trash cans and lids. He tried to see if he could climb up anywhere or maybe use the cans to make a tower.

“End of the line, fucknut…”

Eric turned around to see the coyote demon and several other vagrants ready to tear him to pieces. He backed near a set of trash cans, trying to assess the situation as best as he could. But the closer they got, the more stress he was under.

“I never did find my stash… But killing you will be quite a thrill!”

“Not before I get to get a piece of his ass…”

“I don’t care what you guys do, I want to see if his organs taste any good…”

The various murmurs of murder and rape only added more stress onto Eric. He knew he was sort of outmatched but he knew he had to do something. Looking at the trash cans before him, he improvised a way by taking the lids and used them as shields.

“Alright freaky fucks,” he said as he clanged the lids together like cymbals.

“You want me? COME AND GET ME!”

“I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU!”

_Fuck, I’m dead…_

The coyote demon came at him at full force, bearing his nasty-looking fangs and sharp claws. Eric shoved the lid from his left hand towards him, hitting him directly in the snout, causing a minor fracture. Using the other lid, he swiped at him at least three times, missing each one. His fourth swipe landed on his hip, giving him a distraction that allowed Eric to hit him in the face again, this time landing it from the right side of his face. The coyote demon landed headfirst into a garbage can, as they both toppled over with a CRASH!

"Alrighty then," said Eric as he turned towards the other demons, "who's next?"

A small demon with three eyes came rushing toward Eric with a dagger, screaming bloody murder as he charged after him. Eric waited for the right moment and swung his arm around in a discus swerve, which would lead into a large lariat using the trash can lid that would knock the demon off his feet. Eric then planted a large drop on the demon's face with an improvised elbow drop using the other trash can lid. He flinched in pain slightly from the impact but the force was strong enough to knock out the demon. He picked himself up as he looked at the rest of the demons.

"IS THIS THE BEST YOU BASIC BITCHES GOT?!"

Before he or anyone else could do anything, he was caught from behind by an unseen force. He turned around and saw what looked like someone wearing a plague doctor's mask painted with red colors on it to resemble war paint. He grabbed Eric with one arm that resembled a bird’s talon that wrapped around his neck. With the other arm, he hit him with a gold and white Desert Eagle pistol upside his head, causing Eric to release his grip on the two trash can lids. Eric tried to fight out of his grip, only to receive another hit from the pistol upside his head. The hits caused a small scar on the side of his face, causing some blood to trickle down his cheek.

"Now let's not do anything stupid, boy," said the figure as he held Eric's neck tightly.

Eric looked over to see the coyote demon standing back up with a bloody nose and a bruise on his cheek, while the three-eyed demon came up with two black eyes. The rest were practically cautious about the whole situation, eying both Eric and the demon holding him hostage.

“Now boys, here’s the situation,” said the demon as he pressed the gun against Eric’s head.

“This young man and I are going to be leaving and you’re going to stay out of the way as we go. You don’t want to get in my way…”

“And what if we don’t,” asked a demon that looked like a velociraptor.

**BANG!**

With one quick shot, the demon shot the raptor demon between the eyes with the pistol, freaking out Eric as he felt his ear explode from the gunshot. The other demons were surprised but no one left from their spot. The demon placed the pistol against Eric’s head again.

“Anyone else with a stupid question?”

“Just what do you think you’re gonna do with the fresh meat?”

Eric heard a chuckle under the demon’s breath, still reeling from the pain of the pistol whip and the gun being pressed against his head.

“I have a couple of ideas in mind,” he replied coldly, “I could auction him off to any of the overlords that would pay a pretty penny for him.”

Eric felt his heart sink again. The mere thought of being sold like cattle to an overlord was pretty damn scary. There was no telling what they could do to him.

“Maybe sell him on the black market for his own mortal husk…”

That only sounded worse and even too vague to think about. A regular black market could sell anything and the possibilities of what he would be sold for in a black market in Hell didn’t sound any better.

“There are many other ways of making money off of this fresh fleshy… And I’m gonna be sure to make a lot out of him…”

“You’re making a big mistake, man,” replied Eric in a low voice.

“Who the fuck asked you for an opinion?!”

The demon responded with another pistol whip against his head, as more blood began to pour out of his wound. Eric was moments away from being killed, but his relief came from the shadows, as a pair of red eyes were gleaming in the darkness. Eric was almost happy to see it but at the same time scared as to what would happen next with him here…

“Look man,” Eric began, “I’m not trying anything here, but I think you need to be on your toes…”

The demon pulled out of his grip and slammed Eric against the brick wall, his talon hand squeezing his throat while aiming the pistol against his forehead.

“You’re just a few seconds away from taking a bullet to your tiny fucking brain of yours, boy,” replied the demon with malice in his tone.

“I’m just saying that you’re in a bit of danger here from someone else,” said Eric as he tried to keep his cool.

Looking over the demon’s shoulder, Eric could see several sets of black tentacles rising from the ground, each set drawing near to each vagrant demon in the alleyway. He could also see a set of tentacles rising up from behind the demon holding the pistol, as he tried to keep his gaze on him and not the tentacles.

“In fact… the danger might be closer than you think…”

“You’re on your last straw, boy,” replied the demon as he cocked the hammer on the pistol.

Eric felt like he could die at any second, only to witness the tentacles wrapping around each vagrant and demon in the alleyway, including the one in the mask. Their bodies were at the mercy of Alastor’s own powers as the tentacles raised them from above the ground. And unfortunately for them, mercy was too good for them all… Eric witnessed the nasty sight of limbs and organs being ripped apart, the gruesome sounds of bones breaking emphasized the brutality before him. He tried to close his eyes as he backed against the wall, but then he heard a faint voice demanding him.

“ _ **Keep watching… This is pure art…**_ ”

Eric reluctantly looked back at the demons being torn to pieces. He nearly threw up in the alleyway once he saw some bones, limbs, organs, and a heavy amount of blood rain down. Their screams were silenced as they were dangling and drained of their own lives, then thrown around the alleyway like ragdolls. Eric noticed the demon in the mask to be the last one hanging in the air. He tried to scream, even attempted to beg, but his voice was silenced once a tentacle wrapped around his neck while another was wrapped below his waist. Two tentacles came out and grabbed him by his arms and proceeded to twist him around like a corkscrew cap opener. The gagging screams and cracking bones made Eric gag, noticing the demon’s neck and waist beginning to gush blood. But soon it began to rain crimson, as the tentacles ripped him apart and let his body parts fall in front of Eric. He felt the blood splash over his face, adding a little more red on than he already had from his wound. Thankfully his clothes were kept clean from any drop of blood. All Eric could do was look over the carnage before him, panting and breathing heavily from the dismemberment.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he murmured to himself, quivering in fear from the sight.

Eric looked around and happened to see Alastor appear out of nowhere dead center of the mess. His back faced Eric almost as if nothing happened. Eric could feel a sense of dread during the uncomfortable silence, with the exception of city noise in the background and faint sounds of what seemed like water dripping was actually blood.

“Are you hurt,” asked Alastor, still not facing Eric.

“Yeah,” replied Eric, “Bastard hit me a couple of times. Fuck, I’m definitely bleeding…”

Eric looked over the thick set of blood that caked three of his fingers, astonished how much he bled from the altercation. But his inspection was cut short when he saw Alastor right in front of him, his smile somewhat lower than usual. His heart plummeted down in his stomach, terrified beyond all recognition as his back was against the wall. Alastor took two of his fingers and gently slid against Eric’s wound, taking in a good amount of blood. Eric watched in fear as he saw Alastor inspected the blood as it was dripping from his fingertips. Then he opened his mouth and stuck his tongue out, sliding his fingers down his tongue in a motion that would make Angel blush. The crimson was coating his tongue, then he proceeded to lick his lips in a disturbing sense of satisfaction. His smile returned as he looked down at Eric.

"It seems trouble tends to find you a little too easily," said Alastor in a cold tone.

"I wouldn't be here in the first place if you weren't trying to kill me," snapped Eric.

"You wouldn't be here if you hadn't been so negative with your comments earlier…"

"The hell are you talking about," asked Eric with frustration.

Alastor's eyes changed to a set of radio dials while his teeth were literally glowing. His dials were turning around like actual dials, as the sound of radio feedback emitted from his mouth.

" _ **Hell, he’s the kind of guy that would poison his own mother just for kicks.**_ "

Eric's heart froze the moment he heard his own voice through Alastor's mouth. The conversation he had with Angel had been recorded apparently, much to his dismay.

" _ **Oh sure, I shouldn’t have to say how much his mother would be spinning in her own fucking grave for how well she raised her bastard child and how much of a hackneyed hellraiser he is all together, tormenting any innocent lives he may have encountered along the way.**_ "

Sweat began to form off of Eric's forehead, feeling nervous and scared over what could happen next.

" _ **I probably shouldn’t have to say how much that poor old biddy fucked up big time for bringing up that miserable shitlicker and making him the notorious edgelord that he is now, parading his satanic authority here in Hell while making my time completely fucking miserable!**_ ”

The quality of the audio seemed to have gotten worse the further Alastor got into the conversation.

" _ **Fuck him and his whore of a mother… End of fucking story…**_ ”

Alastor's eyes changed back to his own red eyes while sealing his lips into a smile lower than it was before. His eyes narrowed into what looked like an angry glare, as Eric could tell he was upset with him and then some. Eric, knowing he was going to die, flung his arms up in frustration and began to speak.

"Okay, I went too far with what I said," he began, "especially about your mother. I'm sorry for that at least. But everything else I said about you I'm not sorry for."

Alastor raised an eyebrow at that statement.

"You're a creepy fuck that has been bugging me since I stepped into the hotel. You drive me nuts with the shit you've done to me. And I don't know how you managed to haunt me in my dreams or even knew what my apartment looked like, but you're fucked up for doing it… if you did that, that is…"

Alastor remained silent as he continued to listen.

"And I don't know what your true intent is with me, but if you're gonna actually kill me then…"

Eric paused hesitantly but knew the inevitable was going to happen, as he spread his arms out and readied his stance.

"Then just get it over with. You proved how fucking crazy and kill-happy you are, so just get it over with… and maybe make it painless…"

Eric shut his eyes and kept his stance, waiting for Alastor to do him in. But Alastor did nothing and said nothing. Not even a minute went by and Eric opened his eyes and looked to see Alastor still standing in front of him.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Isn't this what you want?"

But Alastor did nothing… until he finally spoke.

"Do you know why I wanted to dispose of you earlier this morning," he asked as he literally turned his back on Eric.

"Because you're psychotic," replied Eric.

"No, but you're not that far off! The truth of the matter may disturb you more than you can handle…"

Eric slumped his shoulders and dropped his arms in frustration.

"I literally just watched you murder about a dozen demons in front of me, even though you forced me to watch it unfold," screamed Eric.

Silence hung in the air, the same noises flooded around the two. Alastor stared at the ground as he turned his head around.

“You are a liability,” said Alastor quietly, his voice solemn.

“Excuse me, I’m fucking what,” asked Eric.

“A liability,” replied Alastor louder, raising his voice in anger.

“Someone that could become a problem to the hotel and to dear Charlotte.”

Eric let that answer sink in for a little bit, his anger growing as a result.

“Really, I’m that much of a problem for you all,” he asked, feeling bitter.

“Indubitably,” replied Alastor, his head turned away from Eric.

“Your presence alone has proven to become troubling before you even stepped forward into the hotel, as your friends here seemed to recognize you. If anyone else knew you were here, there’s no telling how much damage that could cause to the hotel or the staff. They would tear down the very foundation just to find you. And they would do anything to take your body, your blood, or even your very soul. If I eliminated you from existence, it would alleviate any future problems the hotel would endure.”

Eric felt like a true burden, trying to fight back his tears as his anger rose predominantly.

“Well, thank you so much for showing how much I am truly welcomed in this disposition that I was placed in OUT OF MY OWN FUCKING CONTROL,” yelled Eric as he stomped his foot on the ground, feeling a tear running down his cheek.

Silence hung in the alleyway once more, as Alastor held his microphone close to his face.

“Is it justifiable for him to be this angry with me,” he asked as he tapped the microphone gently.

“Justifiable, maybe,” replied the microphone as the eye shifted around, “But the young man is definitely a liability.”

The sound of audience laughter was heard from Alastor, as he turned around to face Eric as his smile lowered drastically.

“Regardless of how you got here or why you came to the hotel, you are still in great danger being here, to begin with,” he said, “And while you have clemency from Charlotte, you still have no defense or way of finding your way home by yourself. And unfortunately, I have no way of sending you back either.”

“You can’t be fucking serious,” replied Eric, “You have powers to kill several demons and even invade my dreams and all that spooky bullshit, but opening portals is not something you can do?!”

“There are limits even to my own powers. It would require someone with a vast knowledge of the occult and beyond to fully grasp that level of power, something that I have no grasp of personally. I hardly know anyone who is able to help us with that, let alone any enemies that do.”

Eric placed his head against the wall, slamming his fist in anger. He wiped the tear running down his face.

“So what now,” asked Eric, “You gonna kill me now, save the others from having to babysit me and have me be there fucking burden?”

“I had thought about that,” replied Alastor, “But it would only make things worse for Charlie if I did.”

Eric scoffed, finding that statement hard to believe. But he noticed Alastor hadn’t raised his smile or even laughed off his own comment.

“She has a genuine concern for your well-being, almost as much as she does with Angel. The only difference is that you could die at the drop of a hat and she wants to prevent that from happening. You could be helpful with the hotel, but you would need to stay out of sight and out of mind from anyone that decides to join our little community.”

Eric could only sigh in agreement. He didn’t like it, but even he knew it was the only option for now. At least he wouldn’t die at the hands of a sociopathic disc jockey.

“There are a few provisos you must take into consideration, however…”

“If it’s about Charlie, Vaggie already talked to me about it,” Eric interrupted, “Don’t abuse her generosity and don’t cross the boss herself.”

Alastor chuckled in response, his gaze lowered towards the ground.

“Actually these are more serious matters…”

Before Eric could respond, two shadows came from behind him and grabbed him into a tight grip, making sure he wouldn’t try to escape.

“HEY, LET ME GO,” yelled Eric, “LET GO, GODDAMNIT!”

“I’m sure you remember my shadow friends,” said Alastor almost casually, “They do my bidding and next to Niffty are a great help to my work whenever I need them…”

The shadows responded with ghostly calls and laughter, echoing throughout the alleyway. Alastor released the grip of his microphone, which disappeared in a small puff of smoke.

“Now let’s have an understanding, Eric… You may mock me or make jokes about me or my methods behind my back or even to my face as much as you want. But you will understand that I am deadly serious with my methods regardless of how silly they may seem.”

Eric noticed dark red symbols forming from behind Alastor, along with an aura surrounding his frame as he hardly looked up at Eric.

“Second, whatever my pranks may feel to you, they are completely harmless and will pose no physical threat to you unless I approach you otherwise. And believe me when I say this; if and when that time comes, you will be able to know how serious of a threat I am to you. My prey will know how long they have left to live in this miserable underworld…”

Alastor spread his arms out as the aura surrounding him went from a dark red to a pure black, his head twitched slightly. Eric felt his sense of dread intensify.

“ _And this will be my first and only warning to you…_ ”

Alastor’s voice became distorted, his pitch deepened with distorted radio feedback. His figure seemed to be rising upward, but Eric could see his feet still planted on the ground. It wasn’t long before Eric realized that Alastor was actually growing taller before his eyes. The shadows looked on with more ghostly laughter and wickedly eager smiles. Eric looked up and up as Alastor loomed over at what seemed to be over twelve feet in height, his arms and legs reaching outward in a near skeletal figure. His antlers grew outward and upward, looking more like dead branches, as the sound of twigs snapping came out as they grew larger. His smile was so wide and large that it was more menacing than he had ever been. His eyes were glowing bright, looking more like spotlights rather than the radio dials he used so often. If there was a time for anyone to practically shit themselves with fear, this was that moment.

Alastor slowly swung his large hand towards Eric, as the shadows slowly released their grip on him. Alastor’s fingers slowly encompassed his body. Eric felt his body being squeezed into submission, feeling and hearing his bones cracking slightly from the tight grip. He felt like a rodent caught in a hawk’s grip but was treated more like a ragdoll being held captive by a wicked child. Eric’s fear increased in a hundredfold as he was brought towards Alastor’s face, sweat dripping from his forehead, tears welling up in his eyes. Alastor paused himself as Eric caught a glimpse of his terrifying gaze and frighteningly fierce fangs that would glow as he spoke.

“ _ **Mock me all you want, but if you ever speak ill of my mother again… I will be sure to devour your mortal husk ever so slowly as well as your precious soul with the greatest of ease… That is my promise to you… Do you understand?**_ ”

“I-I-I understand completely,” replied Eric as tears fell down his cheeks, “I’m sorry for what I said! Just don’t kill me!”

Eric could see darkness filling Alastor’s eyes, which then began to flood the entire area. He saw his body caught in what looked like a cloud of smoke, the grip seemingly released. But soon the smoke faded, the darkness faded, and he was back on what would be terra firma in the alleyway with his feet on the ground. He looked over to see Alastor standing in front of him, back in his original form with his usual smile and charisma.

“I will look out for any other vagrants on the way back,” said Alastor in his regular voice as he cleaned himself up.

“Take as much time as you need to compose yourself.”

Eric could hardly move as Alastor spun around to leave the alleyway, stepping over the corpses of his latest kills. He stopped as he reached a corner.

“As much as I scare you, Eric, I would treat you no differently than the others. Even someone like Angel may get on my nerves, I still treat him like he was my friend. You are no different.”

With that, Alastor took his leave and left the alleyway. With no one else around, Eric finally let loose with a vicious upchuck inside a nearby trash can. His vomit was stronger than the one he released yesterday, taking in all of the fear, anxiety, dread, and death he experienced within his short time being outside the hotel. The sight of the carnage was already too much for him to handle, but he knew he would have to get used to observing such devastation and mutilation. He took his time to recover and looked over each of the corpses before him. Each vagrant demon was mutilated in ways he couldn’t even fathom. Some had been ripped in half from their torso. One had their head ripped off with their spinal cord still attached. He saw the pieces of the demon that had the plague doctor’s mask on, with his head on top of the coyote’s corpse, his torso dead center of the floor, and his legs in a seated position just near the corner of the exit.

He noticed in the hands of the corpse was the Desert Eagle pistol still gripped in his head hand. Not taking chances, he took the pistol from the cold, dead hand and looked at it carefully. The pistol was plated with a mixture of gold and silver, the grip was a near pearl white with a golden symbol resembling a heart as its insignia. It was a heavy weapon in his hand, but he knew how to handle it once he pressed the button to unload the magazine. He looked to see it was fully loaded with bullets that seemed to shine in a golden white color, something unnatural for him to see. He loaded the magazine and slid the barrel back and forth to confirm it to be locked and loaded. He held the pistol with his index finger behind the trigger as he looked over the rest of the demon’s body. He patted his chest and felt a few items in his shirt pockets. Inside were three small sets of blunts, as he could smell the marijuana from them. In another pocket was a money clip with a couple of hundreds clipped in. He took both items and placed them in his own pockets.

He walked over towards the lower body of the demon and found a wallet and a smartphone. The wallet was filled with more money, numerous fifties and hundreds. Further inside he found a picture of what looked like two crow demons, both holding hunting rifles and decapitated demon heads. The one crow demon matched the dark color scheme of the one that laid before him in pieces. The other had a silver opaque with a red and black eyepatch over his left eye. Looked like they were brothers but it was hard to tell. Further in the wallet were two business cards. One was for a club called “Valentino’s” with a few red hearts surrounding the card itself. Another was for a business called “I.M.P.” with a subtitle that read “Immediate Murder Professionals”. He pocketed both cards and the money from inside the wallet. As he finished his pickpocketing, he made his way out of the alleyway, until he felt a hand grasping his ankle. He yelped in fear, as he looked down to see a bisected demon with the face of a bulldog.

“Help me… please help me…”

Eric felt anxiety hit him once again, his heart pounding like a drum, as he held the pistol in his hand. Between the weight of the gun and the nervous feeling, it was nearly impossible to keep it steady. The bulldog demon reached his hand out as he was spitting out blood.

“Don’t… don’t shoot… help…”

“I’m… I’m so sorry…”

Squinting as he steadied his grip, Eric slowly squeezed the trigger and the gun let out a loud BANG! The shot hit the bulldog demon right between the eyes, as his head fell to the ground and his hand went limp. Eric lowered his hand but kept ahold of the gun, a tear fell down his cheek.

“I give you mercy… Go in peace…”

Eric stood still as he let the sounds of the city fill the alleyway up. On Earth, he would be spotted and taken by police in a heartbeat for what he did. The judge would throw the book at him and sentence him to death like nothing. But there was no one to persecute him, no police or judge to incarcerate him, no one to stop him from the crime he committed. Even though it was fair game in Hell, Eric felt the guilt hit him like a dodgeball to the gut. A near sickening feeling stuck with him for some time.

“Well, you certainly are full of surprises!”

Eric’s trance was snapped out as he looked over and saw Alastor at the exit, giving him applause while the sounds of an audience cheering emitted from his presence.

“You know how to make an interesting twist in development, my boy,” cheered Alastor.

“I didn’t mean to,” replied Eric, “He just… He was… I had… The gun was… I… I…”

Alastor approached Eric and placed a finger gently on his lips, attempting to calm him down.

“No need to worry, my boy,” comforted Alastor, “Your secret is safe with me. Now come along!”

Alastor walked out of the alleyway as Eric slowly followed behind him. He looked back at the massacre behind him, concerned about what else he could expect. With the pistol still in his hand, he tucked it in his pants and covered it with his shirt, and continued following Alastor to the hotel. Alastor, meanwhile, was beginning to think about Eric and what he just did moments ago in the alleyway.

**_There’s certainly more to him than he even realizes..._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't guarantee any more big chapters like this, but we'll see how it goes from here.
> 
> Side note: The design of the Desert Eagle is based on the Platinum Pearl Deluxe Finish design from Grand Theft Auto Online (GTA V) without the accessories.


	6. Dinner and a Show

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With dinner finally prepared, the group begins to enjoy the meal. But things get a little heated between Eric and Alastor...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Been a while since I wrote anything. Sorry about that. Been busy with several things here and there. Had a lot different ideas wrapped around my head for future chapters as well.

Chapter 6 - Dinner and a Show

Despite the amount of pain and trauma he had been through, Eric found himself in a rather precarious yet safe position as Alastor escorted him back to the hotel. There was still a lot at stake with him being in Hell but it was going to take one day at a time to make it through it all. Of course, he wasn’t exactly ready to start killing anyone, but when it comes to his safety and his sanity, it was all he could do to save himself. The only other thing to worry about was the company he was with, especially Alastor. His encounter earlier was enough to fully comprehend how much of a threat he could be if he ever crossed him, let alone insult his own mother again… Still, the Radio Demon was willing to befriend him despite the bad beginnings they had. All that was left was a matter of trust. Soon they found themselves back at the hotel. Alastor stopped by the front door as Eric was ready to walk back inside. He was stopped just a few inches away from reaching the door handle as Alastor gripped him by his wrist. Eric froze, fearful of what might happen.

"You're still bleeding," said Alastor as he pointed at the side of his head.

Eric placed his hand against the scar, feeling a large amount of blood on his fingers.

"Fuck," groaned Eric, "What am I gonna tell Charlie?"

Alastor ran his fingers down the side of Eric's face, as the blood and scar disappeared like it hardly happened.

"Tell her what," replied Alastor in a casual tone.

Bewildered, Eric felt the side of his head, feeling how dry the spot was now. He looked at the blood that still lingered on his hand, only to have Alastor slowly wave his hand across it. With one swipe, the blood disappeared from his hand. Eric looked back at him, only to see he had a small fraction of blood on his own fingertips. He let the blood drip off the tips and into his mouth, then slowly licked his hands clean of the remains.

"Not often I have fresh blood to drink," chuckled Alastor, "And right before dinner too!"

Eric felt uneasy watching Alastor taste what was his own blood before him. The scene in the alleyway was bad enough, but this only amplified the creep factor for him. He continued his way back inside the hotel, leaving Alastor alone outside. He takes the opportunity to whip out a cigar of his own and lights it with his fingertip acting as a lighter, taking in a long puff and exhaling a set of perfectly crafted smoke rings.

“This could be _very_ entertaining after all…”

Back inside, Eric made his way down towards the hallway, passing by Husk who had been busy drinking by the bar. Seems nothing will keep him away from his post. Eric continued down the hall and found himself back in his room. Taking his key, he locked the door behind him and pulled out a majority of the items he took earlier; the set of weed, the Desert Eagle pistol, and the excess of money in a clip. He set it all on his bed, looking over each item carefully. The money was more than he ever expected, more than he could fit in his wallet already. He counted the amount clipped inside, as it contained around $3,000 in a fat wad.

He looked at the money clip itself, as it was shining in what looked like pure gold. On the front was an engraving that bore a large ‘V’ inside a heart. The heart itself was a double stencil design, somewhat shaded. A thought crossed his mind and he pulled out his own wallet, feeling a bit fuller after stuffing extra money inside of it. He took out one of the business cards and saw the one labeled “Valentino’s”. He looked at the hearts strewn about the card itself, then back at the money clip. He noticed both hearts were in the same double stencil design. The card had more colors used, mostly reds and blacks. This could’ve been a huge coincidence but Eric knew he had to be wary of this altogether.

Looking back on the bed, Eric saw the set of weed and held it up to his nose. The smell of the wrappings was different. The aroma was a mixture of something sweet yet bitter, fruity yet foul. Seemed like they were custom made but he didn’t want to take a chance. He then looked at the weapon on the bed; the Desert Eagle. He placed his hand on it and held it up, feeling the familiar weight on it. He remembered the disturbing feeling he had after killing the one demon with it. Without even thinking, he walked into the bathroom with it, looking at himself in the mirror while holding the gun.

“It’s been so long since I held a gun…”

“ _Hold it like a man, goddamnit!_ ”

* * *

It was a stormy evening in the Severino household. Young Eric was holding his father’s Colt .45 pistol with a strain. The gun was heavy for him at his age. Then again, not often a seven-year-old is able to hold a gun like this or given a gun like this to him. His father stood in front of him with his arms crossed, looking as big and burly as he was. A frown was seen through his medium-sized beard.

“Come on, boy,” he yelled, “You want to be a man, don’t you? Hold that gun like a real man would!”

Eric could hardly speak to object to the situation, but it was harder to even hold the gun as easily. He held the grip as best as he could, but the barrel was a bit too heavy to carry on his own. He tried holding the gun up with both hands on the grip, but even then that was a strain.

“Come on, damnit,” yelled his father, “You gotta show some testicular fortitude when you hold a gun. Otherwise, you let the other guy take it from you easily.”

“D-Dad,” muttered Eric somberly, “I don’t think I’m ready to hold a gun yet…”

His father could only look at him with anger in his eyes. With no sense of patience or understanding, he took the gun out of Eric’s hands and placed the barrel on Eric’s forehead.

“See that,” he said with malice in his voice, “That was a prime example of the wolf killing the sheep. The strongest will kill the weakest. And at this point, you’d be dead in a fuckin’ heartbeat…”

Eric felt the barrel pressed hard against his forehead, scared of his own father, and scared about what he would do to him with the gun.

“You better wise up if you expect to be the man of the house someday, otherwise the world will just walk over you like the doormat that you are, you little pussy.”

His father pulled the gun away and walked out into the other room. Eric, meanwhile, felt hurt and afraid of his own father more than ever. It was one thing to teach your son how to handle a gun but it was another thing to treat your son like shit…

* * *

Eric stood in front of a mirror, holding the gun in his hand. His thoughts on his past made him feel more uncomfortable. He pointed the gun at his own reflection, anger building up inside of him.

“Am I a man now, dad? Do I make you proud? Or am I still a little pussy to you?”

Eric felt a tear wallow up in his left eye but he stopped himself from crying. He lowered his arm and walked back out by the bed. He took the gun, the money, and the weed and shoved them all in his bag to hide for the moment being. After a short while, a thought crept into his mind, finally realizing a crucial situation.<

“OH FUCK, THE ZITI!”

Eric unlocked his door and ran down the hall. He was practically sprinting towards the kitchen. Once he made it there, he saw the timer on the stove was just seconds away from expiration. Looking around, he saw a set of kitchen towels left out and held them like gloves. As the timer went off, Eric opened the oven and saw the melted cheesy goodness set before him, then carefully pulled it out of the oven and on the table. He grabbed another towel to use as a heating pad, making sure not to burn the table. As he looked at the baked ziti, he couldn't help but marvel at the perfect amount of melted cheese mixed well with the meat and sauce. The scent was damn near intoxicating, almost felt like he was cooking at home again. He felt like Angel really outdone himself.

_ANGEL!_

He nearly forgot about Angel's hasty departure. He should've been here to see the perfect pasta he made. He would've been so proud of it. Before he could do anything, he decided to take his phone out and take a picture of the ziti, hoping to show Angel later. He hoped that he was okay from whatever drew him away from making dinner. Maybe he could ask him about what happened and see if he would need any help…

"Hey, how's dinner coming along?"

Eric whipped his head around and saw Charlie by the kitchen doors, looking in to inspect the dinner situation. Her eyes lit up once she saw the baked ziti on the table.

"Oooh, that looks so good," she said as she was practically beaming with anticipation.

“I’ll call everyone for dinner!”

Charlie left the kitchen in a flash, all while Eric stood alone with a steaming pan of baked ziti. He didn’t want to keep everyone else waiting, despite Angel’s absence, but he had no other choice. Plus, he was getting a little hungry. Taking two kitchen towels, he grabbed the ziti and made his way to the dining room. He noticed Vaggie walking into a set of double doors, but not before noticing Eric and flagging him down to where she was.

“Over here, Eric,” she hollered down the hall, “Dining room’s this way!”

Eric nodded in response and carried the pasta towards the direction. The heat was getting a little too much for his grip so he increased the speed of his walk down the hall. As he approached the doors, he saw they opened up from the inside, as Alastor was there to greet him with his wide smile. Eric stopped in his tracks, feeling like his latest dream was becoming a recurrence. He could almost hear the same dialogue echoing in his mind.

_**Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel… Enjoy your stay…** _

He snapped out of his trance when he felt a brush up against his shoulder. He looked behind to see Angel standing right behind him, wiping his eyes slightly while holding a heating pad and a spatula.

“Hey, how did my little Masterchef do with the ziti,” he asked as he looked down at the pan, eying the melted cheeses.

“Well you’ll find out when we go in and eat,” replied Eric as he made his way inside.

He felt somewhat comfortable around Angel, but his comfort levels dropped a little once he passed by Alastor. He could feel the red gaze burning through his soul, burning more than the heat of the food he held in his hands. As he looked inside the dining room, he could see how spacious it looked. The dining table was long enough to fit roughly twenty guests all around, with only seven people to take their choice of seats. Charlie sat at the head of the table facing the doorway, while Vaggie sat on her right side and Niffty sat on her left. Husker was sitting two seats away from Vaggie, all while sipping on a bottle of cheap booze. Each of the available seats had a set of utensils available and glasses of ice water set next to each spot. However, Husker’s cup was left empty, most likely due to his own drink he had with him. Angel placed the heat pad in the center of the table and readied the spatula. Eric took his seat next to Niffty, who had anticipated his arrival with her wide grin and ecstatic nature. Eric didn’t mind how hyper she was around him, even if she seemed a bit too eager to be near him. His concern was focused on Alastor, who took the seat directly across from him, as he stared him down with his wicked smile while adjusting his monocle.

“Another night of baked ziti, Angel,” he asked as he stared directly at Eric still, his hands clasped together and his fingers intertwined.

“Well, our latest guest seemed to like the last batch,” Angel began as he took Charlie’s plate and served her a portion of the baked pasta.

“Seems only fair he helped make anotha’ batch. ‘Sides, this one’s a little different.”

Eric tried to avoid Alastor’s gaze and focused looking at Angel, who seemed to be in a better mood than before. He couldn’t help but think there was something he was repressing, even as he served portions of pasta to everyone at the table. Vaggie gave a faint smile and a “thanks” to Angel after serving her plate, Nifty licked her lips in anticipation after receiving her plate. Angel took two plates full of the ziti and served them in between Alastor and Husker. Husk just grunted in response as he grabbed the plate from him. Alastor, however, cautiously took the plate from Angel, as if he was expecting something to happen.

“S’matta’ Smiles,” asked Angel with a pouty face, “You afraid I might bite ya?”

“I’ll bite your head off if you try anything with me, Angel,” replied Alastor in a low voice.

Angel only chuckled as he made his way back to the pan and served two portions on two plates. He strutted his way over and placed the one plate in front of Eric, then took his seat with his own plate before him. Eric noticed that both his plate and Angel’s had pieces of basil tucked underneath their portions.

“This looks very good, Angel,” said Charlie as she admired the serving.

“Ooooh, looks so yummy,” chimed Niffty with her singular eye ogling with anticipation.

“Well, I can’t take full credit for this,” replied Angel, “Sevvy deserves some praise for pitchin’ in the work.”

Eric was annoyed by the nickname but decided to let it go after receiving some praise for his work.

“I’d say it was more of an equal share of work,” replied Eric as he shrugged his shoulders.

“Can we just fuckin’ eat already,” groused Husker as he finished a swig of his booze.

Vaggie glared down at Husker for his reply then looked back at Charlie, who only shrugged off his rude comment.

“Well, let’s dig in everyone,” cheered Charlie as she took her fork.

With that, everyone at the table began to partake in the meal set before them. Everyone except Eric. He was ready to take a bite of ziti but had a pang of guilt hit him. He held the forkful of pasta for a short while before slowly putting it back on his plate. Alastor took notice as he was eating his portion.

“Something wrong with your pasta, Eric,” he asked as he took a small bite.

The other demons took notice as they stared at Eric for a moment. He sat there almost motionless, Angel and Vaggie looked on in confusion, while Charlie looked at him with great concern.

“Are you alright, Eric,” she asked as she stood from her seat.

Eric snapped out of his daze and slowly stood up from his seat.

“I… just need to use the bathroom for a moment,” he replied as he made his way to the exit.

“Eric, is something wro--”

Before Charlie could even finish her question, Eric had already bolted out of the dining room and down the hall. He powerwalked his way to his bedroom, slamming the door behind him. He stood against the door itself, feeling his emotions get the best of him as he began to shed a few tears. He tried to hold them in but he was already in emotional distress. All he could do was wipe them away while trying not to sob his heart out.

“What the hell is wrong with me?”

He took a moment to breathe but then looked down at his bag for a short moment. That’s when he realized he had a rather important item stored inside. He walked over and opened a small pouch on the front, slowly unzipping it. He then reached inside his bag and pulled out a small cross on a thin chainset. The cross was silver to match the chain, roughly two inches in height and nearly an inch thick in diameter. The front of the cross bore the word “Faith” in cursive writing. He held the chain in his hand, looking over the name tenderly.

“ _Always keep this with you, Eric…_ ”

“Mom…”

* * *

Eric looked outside his window in a small dining room, seeing all of the snow covering the ground. The weather report said it was reaching close to two feet of snow and could continue overnight. In any other kid’s perspective, it meant no school and more fun outside. But for Eric, the head cold he was dealing with was keeping him from all of that fun, especially with his heavy cough and runny nose. It didn’t help that his home wasn’t fully heated. Even with him covered in his blanket, it was still too cold to handle. All he could do was watch the neighborhood kids and their families run around and have all the winter fun. His views on the outside were interrupted when his mother came up to him and held his shoulder gently. Her smile was as vibrant as her red hair, practically flowing all around. He smiled back at her with a few sniffles. His smile would widen when he saw she brought him a bowl of tomato soup with Goldfish crackers in the bowl.

Here sweetie,” she said in a warm voice, “Warm yourself with your favorite soup.”

Eric held his hands against the bowl gently, feeling the welcoming warmth on his palms. He then placed his palms on his cheeks, hoping to absorb the heat easily. His mother watched on as he tried to keep himself warm. She too had bundled up in two sweaters during this hellish winter. As she tried to pat herself down for warmth, she felt an item in the pocket of her hoodie. Pulling it out, she realized it was a cross she had kept inside as a keepsake. But then she looked back at Eric and knew she had to help him keep a bit of faith.

“Eric? I have something for you…”

Eric stopped what he was doing and looked up at his mother. She walked over and sat right next to him, holding her hand out and revealed a small cross with a chain attached.

“This was something I had hoped to give you when you were older, but I feel it’s best I gave it to you now… This cross belonged to your great-great-grandmother long ago. She had her fair share of struggles throughout the years, as did your great-grandparents, and your grandparents, and now… us…”

She placed the cross gently in Eric’s hand, then clasped his hand with hers.

“I’ve always kept this as a sign to keep the faith strong. The same way my parents had and their parents and so on. They’ve been through so much and so have we. But we’ll still manage so long as we keep the faith strong.”

She slowly released her grip, allowing Eric to look at the cross in his hand.

“Just remember that the Lord will always be with us as long as we have faith. Always keep this with you, Eric…”

Eric looked up at his mother, a small smile on his lips.

“I will, mom…”

* * *

Eric was snapped out of his flashback and looked back at the cross in his hand. He stretched the chain outward and placed it around his neck, allowing the chain and cross to be seen on the outside and below his neckline.

“Just for you, mom…”

Eric walked out of his room and back down the hall, trying to keep his composure. He approached the dining room doors, took a deep breath, and slowly opened the doors. The others watched as Eric walked back to his seat, as he tried to stay casual.

“Sorry about that,” he said as he sat back down, “I just needed to use the bathroom for a moment.”

Charlie and Vaggie looked at Eric with concern, noticing the cross dangling around his neck. Alastor took notice as well, his smile never faded. Angel took notice as he saw Eric place his elbows on the table and fold his fingers together. His head gently pressed against his hands and began to pray in a whisper.

“Come, you who are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world.”

Everyone hadn’t touched their plates the moment Eric started to whisper. The collective faces of surprise or concern were all facing his direction.

“For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me…”

Alastor gently placed his fork by his plate, his smile never changed but his left eyebrow raised slightly.

“I was naked and you clothed me, I was sick and you visited me, I was in prison and you came to me.”

Eric brought himself out of the prayer, kissed the cross, then tucked it inside his shirt, and grabbed his fork to finally enjoy his meal. But before he could take a serving, he noticed Alastor staring at him, his fingers intertwined and his elbows firmly on the table.

“Depart from me, you cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels.”

Alastor’s reply came as a shock to everyone in the room. Husk nearly dropped his drink, Vaggie’s single eye was widened like a saucer plate, Charlie’s jaw was half-way down, Niffty’s eye looked a lot wider than Vaggie’s, Angel could only stare at him in disbelief, while Eric was looking dead straight into his red eyes.

“ For I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me no drink, I was a stranger and you did not welcome me, naked and you did not clothe me, sick and in prison and you did not visit me.”

Eric and Alastor stared at each other in silence. The amused smile of the Radio Demon gave Eric an unsettling feeling. He could only narrow his eyes at him in anger.

“Are you mocking me for my prayer, Al,” asked Eric in a bitter tone.

“Far from it, my boy,” Alastor replied as he waved his hand, “I only felt the need to finish the prayer of Matthew 25, with verses 42 and 43.”

Eric calmed himself, easing his gaze as he took his fork and dug into the pasta and basil.

“Never pictured you as a man who knows the bible,” said Eric before taking a bite.

“There were only a few bible verses I remembered long before I wound up here in Hell,” Alastor replied as he took his own fork to eat.

“Well, that makes two of us… I hardly read the bible since…”

Eric stopped midway, his hand halfway towards reaching the next forkful of pasta. A bitter memory had occupied his mind, the sounds he heard from his past echoing in his mind. The sound of a fierce slap across someone’s face. The sounds of stumbling. The sound of a body collapsing to the ground. The deafening silence that came afterward.

“Since my mother died long ago…”

Eric slowly resumed his reach for another bite, trying not to let his emotions get the best of him. He tried not to look at anyone for his own sake, let alone ask for any sympathy. Unbeknownst to him, the others looked at him feeling sorry for him. Charlie and Vaggie looked at him with sadness and forlorn. Niffty’s single eye began to well up with tears. Husker was silent but he looked down while holding his drink off the side, looking almost somber. Alastor’s own smile slowly dropped. Angel carefully reached over and held Eric’s shoulder gently, looking at him with concern.

“You uh… wanna talk about it,” asked Angel.

Eric swallowed his portion and breathed in a heavy sigh.

“I’ll need some time before I can fully talk about that,” he replied somberly, “All I can say is I had trouble keeping my faith since that night… And it just hurts every time I think about it…”

“Say no more,” replied Charlie, “You don’t have to tell us about it unless you’re ready to. We’re here to help out as best as we can.”

Eric’s face formed a faint smile from his right side, feeling relieved not being pressured into telling his past and having others willing to listen.

“You know I gotta be honest with you all,” Eric said as he chewed smaller portions to speak, “I thought Hell looked a lot more different than this. I half expected little devils running around with pitchforks and fire surrounding the whole area. Then Satan would come up to you to kill you in several ways for all eternity.”

“I’m sure almost everyone has had their own predictions on how Hell would be perceived,” replied Alastor as he took a bite, “I myself found Hell to be more abstract yet disturbing. Reminds me of an old cartoon I saw in the theater before my demise.”

“Which one,” asked Angel with a mouthful, “There were like… dozens.”

“Ohh I hardly remember the entire cartoon, but I remember it had a little character that looked like a dog lost in a cemetery and being chased by spooks, then he was eaten by a large skull at the end. Scared the children that snuck in! HAHAHA! More amusing than what the cartoon had to offer!”

Eric chuckled a little from Alastor’s little story, trying to remember what cartoon he was talking about. Then it hit him.

“Oh I know which one you’re talking about,” he replied, “It was called ‘Swing You Sinners’! I saw it on YouTube a while back and it was fuckin’ crazy when I first saw it.”

Alastor looked at Eric as his eyebrows lowered, his face looking somewhat annoyed despite his smile. He leaned in with his elbow on the table and his hand under his chin.

“And what, pray tell, is a You-Tube, my boy,” asked Alastor.

“Well, it’s a website where you--”

“OH OF COURSE! A _website_! Another example of modern technology that systematically rots the brains of every generation…”

Alastor could only facepalm in response, his radio feedback acting as his mumbles and grumbles. Eric could only raise his eyebrow as he took another bite of pasta.

“Well golly gee willikers, Batman,” replied Eric sarcastically, “I didn’t think you’d have that much of a stigma for modern technology.”

“More than just the technology, my boy. Everything that your generation created has become nothing more than disharmonious discord the past decade or two. Even the music is absolute garbage.”

“Let me guess… Dubstep,” asked Eric.

“I’m not sure what that is, but I’m sure it’s atrocious.”

“Pretty much, that and autotuning…”

Alastor retched in an almost comedic fashion at the mere mention of autotune, as he rubbed the temples of his eyes in frustration with one hand and held his monocle in the other.

“That is more degrading than the music you had in your room earlier,” he groused.

Eric paused his eating after hearing Alastor’s reply, placing his fork by his plate and swallowed his food. Angel could tell he was looking somewhat mad at Alastor, anticipating a big fight. Charlie and Vaggie could sense the same tension, hoping nothing serious would occur.

“What’s wrong with the music that I had on,” asked Eric in a cold tone.

“The tinny sounds coming out of that minuscule speaker of yours were too horrible to sustain,” replied Alastor as he put his monocle back on.

“Well I’m sorry if the music I listen to is decades further than whatever menial crap you listened to back during your time period,” Eric replied snidely.

“Okay guys, let’s just calm down a little bit here,” chimed Charlie.

But her words fell on deaf ears, as Eric and Alastor were staring dead set into each other's eyes. Eric could only glare at him while Alastor had eyes that could set his soul ablaze. Angel was sitting in his chair looking anxious at the ensuing verbal brawl. Niffty looked a bit concerned at both Alastor and Eric, concerned about what they could do next. Husker was out of his own drunken distraction and seemed almost amused at the fight between the two. Vaggie looked on with stern disapproval.

“You call that depressing dribble of dirge music,” cackled Alastor, “My broadcasts have had a better sense of harmony than whoever was singing or whatever instruments were used for that dreck!”

“Alastor, that’s enough,” yelled Vaggie, “You don’t need to be--”

Vaggie was interrupted by the sound of Eric’s fist slamming onto the dining table, his face raging red as a tomato.

“DON’T YOU FUCKING DISRESPECT OZZY OSBOURNE, YOU CLASSLESS, COCKLESS FUCKWAD!”

The sudden outburst surprised nearly everyone in the room. Even Husk jumped from Eric’s yell. Alastor, however, could only glare at Eric with a cocky grin. Eric was still seething with rage. Niffty tried to approach Eric to calm him down but Angel waved her off, preventing her from getting involved or getting hurt.

“Ozzy Osbourne,” laughed Alastor, “What sort of reputation could someone of his caliber have when his voice is like the sounds of seagulls dying?”

Eric’s temper was overboiling, his fists trembling on the table with rage. Angel was about to try and calm him down, but he noticed a small grin on Eric’s face. The sense of anger calming down, his fists slowly opening up.

“Regardless of how he may sound to you,” Eric began as he spoke softly, “Ozzy has built a legacy on his role as a musician for over fifty years and his fan base continues to grow for every new generation. And while he has not had a perfect career or lifestyle, he still managed to be the badass legend of rock and heavy metal.”

Alastor could only roll his eyes at Eric’s statement. But Eric wasn’t finished yet…

“But at least he’s not some pissant that dresses up in blackface while pretending to be something he’s not, like that one-hit-wonder Al Jolson!”

The sounds of a record scratch emitted from Alastor as his eyes began to turn into radio dials, his eyebrows lowered in anger. Eric raised his palms up in the air, receiving high-fives from both Angel and Niffty. Angel was chuckling over Eric’s reply, but stopped once Alastor stared at him directly. Nifty’s smile diminished once she saw Alastor’s stare as well, looking like a child that had their hand in the cookie jar. Eric noticed the change in Angel and Niffty’s reactions, then looked at the wicked glare from Alastor. He took another bite and tried to calm himself down, trying to ignore the death stare of the Radio Demon.

“The only good artist of that time period that I can think of that actually WAS black and WAS worth listening to was Cab Calloway,” said Eric with a small mouthful of food.

That comment alone surprised Alastor, giving off a raised eyebrow of confusion.

“That guy knew how to make a good performance by being himself and not acting like a total shithead. That and he was a better singer and dancer.”

“Well, you certainly couldn’t match him in any way,” replied Alastor.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“I overheard your singing earlier. Could use a little work there, my friend…”

“Wait a fuckin’ minute,” said Husker as he pulled himself out of his booze, “That was you singin’ earlier? I thought it was somebody tryin’ to suffocate a duck with a cheese grater...”

The sounds of laughter from Alastor and his radio presence emitted the dining room like a theater, almost louder than anyone expected. It was obviously irritating to Eric, who tried to keep a straight face and calm attitude.

“I never said I was trying to sing,” he replied in anger, “I _can_ sing, I was just messing around in the shower. And another thing, give me some space and privacy or go fuck a duck.”

Alastor stared at Eric for a short while, but eventually laughed off his insult.

“If you’re so sure about your ability,” began Alastor as he stood up from his seat, “Then perhaps you could indulge us with a little song to go with our dinner.”

Eric looked a little nervous. He was being called out by the Radio Demon to sing in front of everyone and he was hardly prepared for it.

“Uhh, I dunno,” replied Eric as he shuffled in his seat, “I wouldn’t even know what to sing…”

Alastor bared a smirk that was rising up towards his right ear, his eyebrow lowered to add emphasis to his glare at Eric.

“Well, you like Cab Calloway,” he said as he walked behind Husker’s chair, “Perhaps you could sing one of his songs for us!”

Before anyone could object or say anything else, Alastor snapped his fingers twice. From the other end of the dining table, a large fireplace began to emit a large amount of fire and smoke, as several silhouettes of demons flew out like his shadows. They each carried various instruments with them, from brass to bass. They surrounded the far end of the dining table, away from the rest of the group but still close to have their music playing. Everyone was so distracted by the group bringing in their instruments that they hardly noticed Alastor’s disappearance. It wasn’t until he came up from behind Eric and held his shoulder gently. Eric nearly jumped from his seat, looking up at the Radio Demon staring down at him with his shit-eating grin.

“Take your boots off and follow me please,” requested Alastor with a congenial tone.

“Why,” asked Eric with concern.

“So you can entertain us! Now if you please…”

With a bit of reluctance, Eric took his boots off and set them under his seat. He then stood up and followed Alastor, who had brought him towards the middle of the table and propped a chair on the side as a step for him. Confused, Eric slowly stepped up on the chair and then on the table itself.

“Oh dear, I’ll have to really scrub this table down afterward,” mumbled Niffty.

Alastor bore a larger toothy grin at Eric then looked down at the band down the far end.

“Take it away, fellas,” he said in his upbeat way.

The band began to play a melody that felt somber. The one played the banjo almost like an emotional roller coaster. The tuba played in the background to add more emphasis to the sadness. Eric could recognize the music playing something familiar. He listened in as the band continued playing and began to shimmy his way down towards them in a strange sway of dancing. He inched his way down the other end while kicking his legs around slightly, matching the beat of the music. He spun around to face his friends, then began to sing once the brass began to play.

Eric:  
Folks, I'm goin' down to St. James Infirmary…  
See my baby there...

Eric bared a face that felt forlorn but was emphasizing his dance moves as he slowly moved back down towards the group.

Eric:  
She's stretched out on a long, white table…  
So sweet, so cold, so fair.

Eric looked down at the table, shaking his head in tone with the beat. He playfully wiped his left index finger against his left eye in a tone that looked tragic yet humorous. The others watched on with amusement and surprise. Alastor looked on in curiosity.

Eric:  
Let her go, let her go, God bless her…

Eric then swung his head up high, his hand pressed against his forehead in a manner that looked exaggerative. He then looked left and right, then spun around in a slow twirl.

Eric:  
Wherever she may be…

Eric began to walk around in a circle between the dining side and the musicians’ side of the table, his hands outreaching in opposite directions.

Eric:  
She will search this wide world over…  
But she'll never find another sweet man like me.

Eric made his way towards the band, looking at their glowing eyes and wicked grins. They hardly made any interactions toward him as he got closer, but he kept with the act as they played on.

Eric:  
Now when I die, bury me in my straight-leg britches...

Eric tugged at the side of his pants, shaking his left leg slightly and grinding his heel against the table. Niffty groaned as the sock on his foot became a great aggravation to her.

Eric:  
Put on a box-back coat and a Stetson hat…

He tugged the front of his shirt and tapped his head slightly to reciprocate, then he opened up the neckline and pulled his cross out once more.

Eric:  
Put a twenty-dollar gold piece on my watch chain  
So you can let all the boys know I died standing pat

Eric made his way towards his friends, seeing their mixed reactions as he made his way down. Angel seemed impressed and somewhat infatuated by his dancing and singing, but it could just be his own flirtatious nature speaking for him again. Niffty was somewhat annoyed by Eric’s socks ‘dirtying’ the dining table, but was still enjoying the singing nonetheless. Husker was hardly listening or watching the whole time, taking another swig of his booze. Charlie and Vaggie, meanwhile, were smiling as Eric made his way down and continued to sing, impressed with his talent. Eric couldn’t find Alastor anywhere but he was too busy with his act that he didn’t give a shit where he could be and what he was up to.

Eric:  
Then give me six crap-shooting pallbearers…

Eric threw his hand out in a motion like he was throwing dice out, the clarinet squealing from the back in response.

Eric:  
Let a chorus girl sing me a song…

Niffty hummed a little tune in response, making Eric chuckle slightly but not enough to stop him singing.

Eric:  
Put a red hot jazz band at the top of my head  
So we can raise Hallelujah as we go along.

Eric could see he was getting closer to his new friends, noticing he was between Angel and Husker. He could see Angel gazing up at him and fluttered his eyes at him. He turned and saw Husker nearly chugging away, then pulled away slightly.

Eric:  
Folks, now that you have heard my story…

Eric kneeled down and grabbed Husk’s bottle, who grunted in response and bared his fangs at him with anger.

Eric:  
Say, boy, hand me another shot of that booze…

Eric took a quick sip of the alcohol, feeling it somewhat burn his throat from the bitter taste, then handed it back to Husker. He then stood back up and twirled slightly, his eyes closed.

Eric:  
If anyone should ask you,  
You go ahead and tell 'em  
I've got those St. James Infirmary Blues.

The band continued to play for a while. Eric felt like he was dancing on air for a second, a smile on his lips. He then felt a hand holding onto his gently. He opened his eyes to see Alastor standing right in front of him, his eyelids half open and his grin looking just as wicked.

“It seems I have underestimated you, my boy,” said Alastor in a friendly tone, “You can sing well and can move well on your own as well.”

Eric cautiously pulled his own hand away from Alastor, who hardly phased from the reaction and still smiled down at him.

“I’m not easily impressed but you have certainly surprised me, Eric.”

Yeah, thanks,” Eric replied somewhat shyly.

Eric walked toward the side of the dining table where he stepped on and carefully hopped off. As he reached under his chair to grab his boots, the band finished off their music and disappeared in a flash.

“Well, you certainly have some talent, Eric,” said Charlie with great enthusiasm.

“Yeah, I thought you sang pretty well,” Vaggie chimed.

“Pretty sweet moves you got too,” said Angel as he rubbed his shoulder gently.

“Yeah, you were great,” groused Husker, “Just don’t touch my fuckin’ booze again.”

“I’m gonna need to do a double shift for the table after dinner,” said Niffty, “But you were pretty good there, handsome.”

Eric smiled slightly at their responses, feeling somewhat relieved. In all fairness, he felt carefree once he was singing and dancing with a small audience. It was almost riveting for him. Regardless, he sat back down and finished his meal, noticing Alastor was back in his seat and eating his meal as well.

“It’s like I always say, Eric,” said Alastor, “The world is a stage and a stage is a world of entertainment!”

“I uhh… I suppose so,” replied Eric, uneasy looking at Alastor.

As much as he appreciated the comments, he was still unsure of being around Alastor. Near-death experiences don’t exactly make for good friendships. As Eric managed to finish his meal, while trying to shake off the uneasy feeling altogether, he looked over at Angel again. He noticed a slight frown on his face, as he gently picked through the pasta and ate it in smaller bites.

“Well, I think it’s time to clean up,” said Alastor as he picked up his plate and cup and made his way out of the dining room.

Eric noticed the others leaving one at a time from their seats and out the door. Charlie and Vaggie left together, discussing something together as they walked out. Niffty and Husker left separately, as the little demon hopped out enthusiastically while the cat demon was staggering his way out in a near-drunken stupor. Eric looked over at Angel, who had managed to finish his plate with only a few bits of basil and cheese left on his plate. Eric tried to reach over to Angel and comfort him somehow, but the spider demon rose out of his seat and walked out of the room, albeit instantaneous. Before he could even call out to him, Angel had already left the dining room, leaving Eric alone and greatly concerned.

“I gotta talk to him somehow…”

Eric took his plate and cup and left the dining room. He made his way into the kitchen and saw Angel, Niffty, and Husker near the sink and dishwasher. Niffty was erratically cleaning the baking dish that was used for the meal itself, grousing about the cheese sticking to the sides. Husker took another drink of his beer, but not before chuckling at Niffty’s expense. Angel placed his plate and cup inside the dishwasher, barely paying attention to what was going on around him. Eric saw this as an opportunity to finally speak to him.

“Hey, Angel!”

Angel looked up at Eric for a second, barely acknowledged him before walking towards the exit.

“Angel, wait! Goddamnit…”

Eric placed his plate and cup by the sink and made a dash for the exit, receiving a yell from Niffty.

“HEY, I’M NOT CLEANING UP AFTER YOU!”

Eric dashed out into the hall and saw Angel walking towards the lobby. He sprinted towards him and grabbed him by his lower left arm.

“Angel, wait!”

Angel swung around, looking completely irritated and angry. His teeth were showing as his gold tooth shined in the hall slightly.

“Da fuck do ya want,” yelled Angel, holding a fist up in the air.

“Sorry, I just…”

Eric was a bit lost for words as he looked at Angel’s face. He could see his eyes watering a little through his angered expression.

“I just wanted to talk to you,” Eric continued, “I was concerned about what happened to you earlier when we were making dinner.”

Angel rolled his eyes slightly, as he itched his lower right arm with his upper left arm. He looked away from Eric, his eyes trying to hold back his tears. Eric could tell there was some baggage and he wasn’t 100% willing to talk about it.

“I figured we could go somewhere private, so we won’t be bothered by anyone else?”

Angel looked back at him, crossing his lower arms in the process. Then his frown slowly formed into a grin, his gold tooth shining.

“Like somewhere alone,” he asked in a cocky fashion.

“Yeah, just so we can talk.”

Angel stroked his chin in a comedic fashion, humming as he playfully thought about it. Then he leaned into Eric’s ear.

“Penthouse suite,” he whispered, “On the balcony. Be there in five, sweetheart.”

Before Eric could say anything else, Angel walked down the hall and out in the lobby. He watched as he saw the spider demon strut along the way and wave him goodbye as he walked out of view. From the opposite direction, he saw Charlie walk down the hall and approach Eric, smiling all the way.

“Oh good, there you are Eric,” she said enthusiastically, “I forgot to give you something.”

Charlie reached into her pocket and pulled out a pack of Marlboro cigarettes and a lighter, placing them into Eric’s hands.

“I meant to give these to you earlier. I hope they’re alright.”

“They’re good, Charlie,” Eric replied as he smiled, “Thank you so much.”

Charlie walked back down the hall and off the same direction she came in. Eric looked over his smokes and walked towards his room down the hall. He opened the door and placed the cigarettes and lighter on the bed. He then looked at the bag on his floor and opened it slightly. He saw that everything he took earlier was still inside; the pistol, the weed, and the money. He took the weed and the money and pocketed them inside his front pockets. He zipped his bag shut, then grabbed his cigarettes and lighter, and walked out into the hall again. He passed by Niffty, who was geared with cleaning products and entered the dining room with determination.

“The table must be cleansed,” she shouted in a battle cry.

Eric chuckled slightly as he made his way down the hall and into the lobby. There he saw Husker drinking behind the bar, while Alastor was sitting on the couch reading the newspaper. With them distracted, Eric saw an elevator by the staircase and made his way inside. Looking over the buttons inside the elevator, he found the Penthouse button marked with ‘PH’ on it and pressed it. Almost instantly, the doors close and the elevator rises upward. Back in the lobby, Alastor lowered the newspaper and glared at the elevator with a wicked grin, chuckling to himself.

**_What could that boy be up to now?_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not a religious person (shocker!) but I had to do a little bible research for a good prayer. I thought back to the prayer R. Lee Ermey did in 'Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Beginning' and tried searching around for that prayer. Found out to be Matthew 25, verses 34 to 36. I even added the aforementioned verses 41 to 43 to add a little spot for Alastor.
> 
> The song played is, of course, 'St. James Infirmary Blues'. The music for the song is based on the rendition by the Preservation Hall Jazz Band (during the first few minutes of the song) and based loosely on Cab Calloway's performance between the Betty Boop 'Snow White' cartoon from 1933 and his 1941 rendition of the song.


	7. Heart-To-Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eric finally gets a chance to speak to Angel about what happened earlier, only to find that Angel's life is more miserable than he can even comprehend...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So much to convey within my story and so many ideas, yet I want to try and flesh this all out more before I get into the real good stuff I have planned.

### Chapter 7 - Heart-To-Heart

Eric stood in the elevator for a while, listening to the music playing as he waited for his level. He looked at the numerous numbers on the elevator, realizing how many floors the hotel had; fifty floors and the penthouse. This place was pretty damn huge and he’s only been on the ground floor the entire time. He could only imagine how the rest of the hotel was and how much it had to accommodate. As he waited for his floor, he listened to the music playing. It sounded almost like regular music and not the old fashioned elevator muzak he had heard in other elevators. In fact, the music sounded vaguely familiar. It sounded almost like Dixieland but it had a melody that sounded like something from a movie. Could’ve been something from Disney, but he wasn’t 100% sure…

His thoughts were interrupted when he saw the elevators open, revealing the penthouse floor. There were only four doors that he saw. To the left, the one door led to a stairwell. To the right was a small hallway that led to restrooms with an ice machine and two vending machines in between the doors. And right in front of him was a set of double doors. He figured that was the penthouse itself. He approached it and held the door handle gently. As he pushed open the doors, he saw the interior itself and was not exactly impressed. The room was spacious but was in poor condition. The curtains by the large window were torn apart, cobwebs all around. The furniture was all over the place, some flipped over, all had been torn apart from the fabric to the wooden frames. A glass table had a large fire poker lodged dead center, the table still intact despite the damage. On a wall nearby was a portrait of Lucifer, but was ripped to shreds and had left only his face in the frame. The mess was enough to put Niffty into hysterics.

Eric looked around and saw what looked like a large patio down the far end of the suite through a set of glass doors. He walked over cautiously, trying not to damage anything else in the room. As he got closer, he saw a large couch that looked like it had been shot several times and burnt up. Near the glass doors was a large flat-screen TV that had been broken in half, pieces of the screen scattered all over the floor. He walked over some of the glass bits and made his way to the patio, where he saw Angel standing outside, overlooking Hell itself. He opened the door and found that the patio itself was a lot cleaner and neater than what had happened inside the penthouse. He saw several patio tables with chairs surrounding each one and had umbrellas covering each one for proper shade. Also around were several sets of lounge chairs with thin cushions on each set. He looked over at Angel, who had been lounging on the rails of the patio, blowing out a small puff of red smoke from a cigarette.

“Uhh, Angel?”

Angel turned around and saw Eric, a faint smile on his lips. He flicked his cigarette away and walked over to Eric, giving off a little strut along the way.

“Well well, hello there Sevvy,” greeted Angel as he licked his lips, “You came by just in time…”

Eric felt a little uneasy when he felt Angel’s upper hands on his shoulders, while his lower hands were on his hips, a bit too close towards his crotch.

“Uhh Angel,” began Eric, “This isn’t what I was--”

“Ohh come on, Sevvy,” cooed Angel, “Just let me work my magic…”

Angel placed his lower hands on Eric’s belt, ready to undo his buckle. Eric stopped him midway by grasping onto his lower hands.

“Angel, I wanted to talk to you,” he replied sternly, “I wasn’t implying anything other than a conversation.”

“Okay but I go by the hour, even if it’s to build up for foreplay,” replied Angel as he squished Eric’s cheeks together.

“ANGEL! I’M BEING SERIOUS HERE!”

Eric pulled away from Angel’s grip, trying to remain calm despite Angel’s antics. He was somewhat surprised how he seemed almost normal after having to avoid him a few times earlier.

“It’s about what happened earlier before you practically went through the cheese like it was nothing. You got some sort of message earlier that seemed to upset you.”

Angel’s smile dropped immediately, almost as sudden as before. Eric could see his eyes shrink, barely blinking or moving. Then he moved away from Eric slightly, holding his arms together in an uncomfortable position. He turned his head away, looking almost ashamed.

“I… I can’t talk about it,” he replied hesitantly.

“You can’t talk about or you don’t want to talk about it,” asked Eric with concern.

Angel barely said a word, his hands gripping his arms tightly. He closed his eyes and breathed a heavy sigh.

“Angel, I may not be from around here but I can still do my best to help you. If you could just tell me--”

“There’s nothing to tell,” Angel interrupted, his voice low and almost bitter.

“Okay, now I can tell that’s bullshit,” replied Eric, his voice raised.

“Not like you would even understand… None of you eva’ could understand…”

“Understand what? You’re practically hiding this from me even though I’ve been here for nearly two days and you run off without even saying anything else like--”

“MAYBE IT’S NONE OF YOUR FUCKIN’ BUSINESS, YOU EVER THOUGHT OF THAT?!”

Eric reeled back at Angel’s outburst, looking up at the spider demon towering over with a look of anger in his mismatched eyes.

“MAYBE I DON’T WANT ANY OF YOU FUCKS GETTIN’ YOUR FUCKIN’ NOSES IN MY FUCKIN’ BUSINESS!”

Eric backed further away as best as he could as Angel continued to move in closer towards him as he poked his index finger into Eric’s chest, poking him harder than Eric had anticipated.

“MAYBE I DON’T WANT ANYONE PESTERIN’ ME ABOUT ALL THE SHIT I DO LIKE THEY’RE MY FUCKIN’ DEADBEAT, DICKHEAD DAD!”

Angel emphasized his anger by prodding Eric with three more pokes out of the last three words in his sentence, with the last poke causing Eric to fall on a lounge chair. He curled up against it, feeling scared over Angel’s rage and finger battery.

“I-I-I’m sorry, Angel,” muttered Eric as a tear glistened in his left eye.

Angel finally realized what he was saying and what he had done, as he saw the near pathetic position Eric was in and the tear welling up in his eye. He moved away from his position and turned away, feeling tears welling up in his own eyes. He erratically wiped them away, trying to save face. Taking into consideration Eric’s own well-being and situation, he turned back around and gently placed his lower hand on his leg.

“I’m sorry for yellin’ at ya’,” said Angel in a soft voice, “I just have a lot going on…”

“Alright, I understand,” replied Eric, wiping his tear away.

“But listen, I’m here if you wanna talk or anything. I may not know a lot about what’s going on here in Hell, but I can do my best for moral support at least.”

Angel sat in a lounge chair next to Eric, only sighing in response. His left leg was resting flat while his right leg was up from the knee. He pulled out another cigarette, reaching around for a lighter. Eric pulled his lighter out before him, flipping off the top and flipping on the light.

“Wanna light,” asked Eric as he held out the lighter.

Angel took notice of Eric’s gesture and leaned in close to his lighter, getting a few small puffs as he got his cigarette lit. He leaned back on the chair and took in a big puff, then exhaled a large puff of red smoke. Eric looked at the smoke as it blew up in the sky. It almost had a glow to it, practically unnatural. Eric pulled out his pack of Marlboros and opened the pack slowly, turning his head to Angel.

“What kind of smokes are those,” he asked as he pulled out a cigarette.

“Somethin’ my boss gives me every time,” Angel replied almost monotone.

Eric looked at Angel with concern as he lit his cigarette and took a few puffs, then exhaled his own puff of smoke. He saw his smoke was a regular gray color, as it made its way towards Angel’s red smoke. However, the red smoke seemed to maneuver its way towards the gray smoke and usurp it, seeping into the gray and practically dissolving it completely. Eric looked on in surprise then looked back at Angel, who had hardly looked at the sky or anywhere around him. He only stared at his cigarette.

“What the hell kind of smokes does your boss give you?”

Angel took another smoke before answering.

“The kind that practically controls me…”

Eric couldn’t even fathom that kind of reply, looking at Angel bewildered as he exhaled his red smoke. Angel held his cigarette close to his face.

“Aside from the drugs, these are the only kind of smokes I can handle. Even if it’s somethin’ like what you got there, from a store, I can’t handle it. Tried it once, ended up hackin’ a lung up it was fucked up.”

Angel took another puff, sliding his right leg down against the chair.

“And when I’m not puffin’ away at this shit, I’m forced to binge on coke and heroin like you wouldn’t fuckin’ believe. ‘Cuz when I’m workin’ the poles or workin’ a porn shoot, I got to be at my fuckin’ best or I’ll be at my fuckin’ worst…”

Eric could hardly imagine this kind of lifestyle and how anyone could live it for all eternity. He could tell how it was emotionally draining Angel and how it was practically damaging himself. He could hardly focus on his own cigarette.

“And boy does Val get angry when I’m at my worst…”

“Val?”

Angel slowly turned his head to face Eric, lowering his cigarette slightly.

“Valentino,” replied Angel with venom in his voice, “My boss… my pimp… The Overlord…”

“A pimp as an overlord? Fuck me running…”

Angel turned back and proceeded to take another smoke of his cigarette. Eric proceeded to do the same, but as he exhaled a thought crept into his mind. He put his cigarette in his mouth and reached into one of his pockets. He pulled out his wallet and grabbed one of the business cards he stored inside. He looked closely at the card itself. Aside from an email and phone number below, he finally got a good look at the name itself.

_Valentino’s - Cum For The Entertainment!_

He flipped the other side and saw something he hadn’t noticed before. On the back was an image of Angel, wearing what looked like a leather top that could hardly contain his fluff, his tongue sticking out in a sexy manner and making a flirtatious wink. Below were small social media logos and on the right of his image was a small set of text.

_See ANGEL DUST! The hottest attraction in Hell!_

“Fucking hell…”

Angel looked over and noticed Eric holding a business card for ‘Valentino’s’ in his hand. His eyes widened at Eric as he held the card.

“What the fuck, where did you get that,” yelled Angel as he threw his cigarette.

Eric snapped his head towards Angel, noticing the anger in his eyes.

“Whoa whoa, hold on,” said Eric in a calm manner, “Let me explain!”

Angel sat on the lounge chair straight upward, all of his arms folded as he stared at Eric in anger.

“I got this card before dinner and… well… Let’s just say I got it from outside…”

Angel raised an eyebrow in response.

“Here’s what happened and I swear this is the truth… After you left the kitchen, I took care of the rest of the work. Before I could get a chance to relax, Alastor comes in and gives me an envelope. Inside were a set of numbers that resembled a countdown. Without even thinking of any way around it, I ran out of the kitchen and out into the streets.”

Angel’s eyebrow had hardly lowered from listening.

“I ran outside and went back down the alleyway, where I came across the same group of hobos that were trying to kill me. I could hardly run anywhere else and was blocked from any chance of escape. I fought ‘em off for a good while until some demon in a bird-like mask attacked me and held me at gunpoint.”

Angel's eyebrow lowered slightly, yet his frown hardly changed.

"The guy was willing to sell me on the black market or whatever to make a profit off of me, but that all changed when Alastor showed up…"

Angel's frown faded and both of his eyebrows raised slightly.

"I couldn't tell you how much carnage he created in that alleyway but he hardly left anyone alive…"

Eric paused for a moment, still remembering the screams of the vagrants and the sounds of dismemberment that happened.

"Despite him saving me, he wasn't exactly forgiving after he caught wind of what I said about his mother…"

Angel winced slightly while sucking in air through his teeth, knowing full well of Alastor's motivation when it comes to mockery against the people he loves…

"He gave me his only warning and left the alleyway afterward…"

Eric could see the large face of Alastor in his mind, thinking back to his threat. He tried shaking it off to continue.

"After he left, I scavenged around the corpse of the guy who held me captive and found that card on him. I don't know what I was thinking, I just felt like… like I wanted to steal from him…"

Angel looked at Eric with a little smirk on his face.

"Sounds like Hell is rubbing off on you," said Angel.

"I dunno," replied Eric as he rubbed the back of his neck, "I think I mostly did that because he tried to take me away like I was cattle or something. Made it look like it was karma in a way…"

Angel chuckled slightly, taking in another few puffs of his smoke, while Eric took in a big puff of his smoke then tossed the butt away.

"Though the card wasn't the only thing I found on him," he continued as he exhaled the smoke.

"Oh yeah, what else did you find," asked Angel, "More smokes? Some condoms?"

Eric replied by pulling the set of blunts out of his pocket.

"HOLY FUCK! You got the good shit now!"

Eric chuckled and handed him a blunt. He then took his lighter out and lit up Angel’s weed, as he took in stronger puffs. Eric then took his lighter, lit his own weed up, and took in a long inhale. He could taste the semi-sweet yet bitter taste of the smoke as he inhaled, trying not to choke or gag. He held in the smoke for a short while before finally breathing it out through his nostrils. He felt somewhat calmer after taking a good smoke. He looked over at Angel and saw he was feeling more at ease than he was before. The two relaxed on the lounge chairs for a while, taking occasional smokes from the blunts. They looked up at the crimson sky, looking at the pentagram that covered most of the sky. Eric looked at a small white globe with a ring surrounding it.

“Hey Angel, what’s that over there,” asked Eric as he pointed at the white globe.

Angel pulled himself out of his high and looked over at the spot Eric was pointing toward.

“Oh yeah, that’s supposed to be Heaven,” replied Angel before taking in another smoke.

Eric looked at the white globe again, almost amazed at how it looked. It was almost like looking at something from a video game or some sort of sci-fi fantasy.

“So near and yet so far,” muttered Eric as he took to another smoke.

“Makes you wonder if it’s really that much of a paradise up there…”

The two shared a moment of silence together, taking in more puffs as they relaxed. After a short while, Angel began to feel somewhat uncomfortable. He winced in his seat slightly, grasping his lower arms together. He then slowly began to curl up into a ball on the lounge chair. Eric looked over and saw Angel turning away from him, hearing what sounded like faint sobbing.

“Angel?”

Eric slowly rose up from his seat and moved over towards Angel. As he looked over at him, he saw his eyes shut with tears running down his cheeks. His upper arms tried to cover his face but Eric could tell he was in emotional turmoil. He tried to reach over and try to comfort him but he felt like he wasn’t in the mood to be touched. He then slowly walked towards the patio door. He reached for the door handle slowly.

“WAIT!”

Eric stopped and looked back at Angel, who was sitting upright with his face flooded with tears.

“Please… don’t go,” begged Angel, “I… I really need someone to stay with me…”

Eric looked at Angel’s face of desperation, feeling guilty for nearly having to leave Angel all alone. He definitely looked like he needed someone to give him support or comfort.

“Alright Angel,” replied Eric as he walked back.

Eric moved towards his lounge chair and decided to move it up against Angel’s own chair, shaping it into what looked like a full-sized bed. He then laid on his side and placed a hand on Angel’s back, gently rubbing it back and forth. Angel said nothing, still letting out a few sobs as more tears flooded. It was practically heart-wrenching for Eric to see the flirtatious spider demon bawling like a baby, especially after hearing about all of the troubles he’s been in.

_This poor little spider baby…_

It seemed like an hour passed but it had been roughly thirty minutes when everything began to settle. Angel’s sobs were silent and his tears began to dry up. Eric was laying right up against him, his chest against Angel’s back. As he rested next to him, another thought hit him. He pulled out the wad of money stored on the money clip from his pocket. He took off the money clip and slipped it back while holding the $3,000 in his hand.

“Angel, I’m not sure what sort of problems you may be facing…”

Angel hardly moved from his position as Eric began to speak. He stood up slightly and looked over at Angel, then began to hand the money over to him.

“But I figured you needed this…”

Eric gently placed the money in Angel’s hands, as he looked at the wad of cash in his palms with a look of disbelief.

“It was another thing I took from the guy earlier…”

Angel sat upright in his seat, feverishly counting the money in his hands. His eyes were as wide as dinner plates, going over every dollar he had in front of him. Once he got the count, he paused and held the money close to his face.

“I figured he wasn’t gonna use it so I kept it for any emergencies. And it seemed like it was better off in your ha--”

Before Eric could even continue, he was interrupted by Angel enveloping him into a big hug, as his lower arms did most of the hugging while his upper arms just wrapped around his shoulders while still holding the money. It caught Eric off guard for a moment as Angel’s eyes were flooded with tears again.

“You’re a fuckin’ lifesaver,” he sobbed as he held Eric close, “Thank you so much.”

Eric was surprised by Angel’s reaction but eventually reciprocated his hug.

“You’re welcome Angel,” he replied softly.

Angel pulled out of the hug while trying to wipe away his tears. He then took the money and shoved it within his fluffy cleavage.

“I dunno why you’d try and help some whore like me, but I definitely appreciate it,” said Angel.

“Hey, I know I only met you within a day, but I still want to help you out as best as I can,” replied Eric, “After all, I’m your friend.”

Angel sniffled slightly, wiping another tear away as he smiled at Eric in response.

“Fuckin’ hell, I’m just a big mess, aren’t I? Just pathetic…”

“Hey, don’t talk like that, Angel. There’s nothing wrong with expressing your concerns or emotions.”

Angel sat upright and held his legs together with his lower arms, while his upper arms sat on his legs like a desk.

“Listen, Eric… I appreciate what you did… No one has ever been as nice to me since Charlie took me in... “

Angel paused for a moment, as Eric took the opportunity to gently rub his back.

“But I definitely owe you big for this. You ever need anythin’, just call on me. Okay, sweetheart?”

“Sounds like a plan, Angel.”

Eric took one last inhale of the blunt then tossed it off of the balcony. Angel took in a few more puffs before proceeding to toss his blunt off in the same direction.

“You wanna head back down or do you wanna stick around here for a little longer,” Eric asked.

Angel thought for a little while, thinking of whether he was ready to leave or not. But then he thought about the wad of money Eric gave him and smiled. Out of all the bad he’s been through, he felt almost relieved for the first time in a long time.

“Nah, I’m ready to head back down,” Angel replied.

Eric smiled as he led the way through the penthouse. They carefully made their way through the debris and damage left behind from God knows when over God knows what.

“Any idea when this all happened,” asked Eric as he was carefully walking around the mess.

“Not a fuckin’ clue,” replied Angel as he moved around with the greatest of ease.

The two managed to walk through the junk and walked through the double doors and towards the elevator. They stepped inside and prepared for the long and slow drop down.

It seemed like it was an eternity, but the two had reached the ground floor as they exited with a positive demeanor and big smiles.

“Hey thanks again for what you did for me,” said Angel as he gently placed his hand on Eric’s shoulder.

“Hey, it’s no problem Angel,” replied Eric, “I just wish I could do more to help…”

Eric felt a gentle peck against his cheek, as Angel gave him a small kiss.

“I still appreciate it, Sevvy…”

Eric only smiled in response, holding his cheek gently.

"You two need a room or somethin'? Because you're makin' me sick over here…"

The two looked over and saw Husk at the bar, grousing at them in his usual manner. Eric scowled slightly but Angel had a smirk on his face.

"Aww, what's wrong Husky," asked Angel in a flirtatious manner, "You want to get in on some action?"

"Go fuck yourself…"

"Only if you wanna watch!"

Eric laughed as he made his way to the bar, watching the anger grow from Husk's reaction. Husk turned his attention to Eric as he took his seat at the bar.

"The fuck do you want? I told you I wasn't doin' anythin' for ya until you pay me back."

Eric pulled out his wallet and placed a hundred and a fifty on the bar.

"I think this is more than enough for a bottle of scotch," said Eric with a smile.

Husk's demeanor altered slightly as he took the money and pocketed it.

"7 & 7, please."

Husk grunted in response as he got to work. Angel approached the bar and sat next to Eric.

"Make that two, pussycat," replied Angel as he placed a twenty on the bar.

The dollar was taken from behind the two, as Eric and Angel turned to see Alastor holding the dollar bill in his hand.

"Hey! Give that back!"

Alastor squeezed the dollar bill in his hand as he formed it into a fist. One quick release and the dollar was gone.

"Give what back," replied Alastor with a sly grin.

“What the fuck, Al?! I didn’t do anythin’ wrong for a while! I’ve practically been a boy scout for the last few weeks!”

“But who had the last of the champagne?”

Angel was about to interject but knew he was fighting a losing battle against the Radio Demon. All he could do was pout and shrug his shoulders. Alastor then leaned in and sniffed Angel slightly, as Angel looked on with wide eyes while Eric watched with a worried look on his face. Alastor pulled back as his smile grew.

"You've been smoking marijuana…"

Angel's eyes grew wider at his response, forgetting about the weed he smoked with Eric.

"Angel, is this true?"

The trio looked over and saw Charlie and Vaggie approaching them, anger in Vaggie's eye while Charlie looked sad and disappointed.

"Angel, how could you," said Charlie with a hint of sadness in her voice, "You've been making decent progress for a while now."

"I knew he was going to slip up sooner or later," grumbled Vaggie.

Angel could hardly find the words to defend himself with. A pang of guilt hit him hard, the room was deadly quiet.

"It was my fault."

All eyes were set on Eric, collective faces of surprise shown on each demon in the room. Eric held Angel by his shoulder in a comforting way.

"I found some weed outside before entering the hotel yesterday," Eric began, "which was what drove the hobos to try and kill me for. I kept it with me in case I needed to de-stress myself. But after Angel told me about his problems earlier, we both had a good smoke for a while."

Angel smiled at Eric's response, feeling relaxed and relieved that someone stood up for him.

"That's still no excuse," replied Alastor in a stern tone, "He's not allowed any type of drug whatsoever."

"Oh please, marijuana's not much of a drug," said Eric as he stood up from his seat.

"There are people who have sucked dick for coke!"

"Guilty," chimed Angel with his hand raised.

"How about you, Alastor? Have you ever known anyone that sucked dick for weed?"

A short pause hung in the air as every demon stared at Alastor. He hardly moved or flinched, just stood there nonchalantly.

"Can't say I do," he finally replied.

Eric gave off a smirk as he sat back in his seat, looking behind and saw his drink ready for him, served in a small glass with a thin red straw resting inside.

"Back on Earth, marijuana has been used for medicinal purposes," said Eric before taking a small sip of his drink.

"Been used for cancer patients to ease their stress and all. So suck on that, Allie."

Eric could hear a faint chuckle from behind him as Husk turned to keep himself from being exposed for his laugh. Angel, however, was laughing his ass off on the barstool. Even Charlie tried to stifle a tiny laugh, but kept her composure for Vaggie and Alastor. She then walked over towards the two with a stern look on her face.

"Well Eric, you must understand that we can't allow Angel to have any form of substance that could be hazardous to anyone's health or wellbeing," she said while waving her index finger.

"While it's not 100% lethal, marijuana can still be a dangerous drug to handle. But I'll let you both off with a warning; If you're caught with any drugs, you will be placed on probation and will be assisting in deep cleaning several rooms of the hotel."

Charlie concluded her speech with her arms crossed. Angel and Eric only looked at her with a slight sense of surprise. Her tone wasn't so much out of anger or spite. Hell, she hardly seemed like a manager when scolding her employees. She was acting more like a mother than anything else.

"Alright Charlie, you win," said Angel as he stood up from his seat.

"You drive a hard bargain. I'll just go to my room."

Eric took another sip of his drink as Angel walked down the hall. But Charlie stopped him by gently holding his hand.

"Please understand we're doing this for you, Angel," she said with sincerity, "We care about you. We're concerned for your well-being."

Angel pulled his hand out of her grip in aggravation, turning his head around to show a sneer on his face.

"Whatever, your highness…"

Eric felt surprised to see Angel snap at Charlie, even though she was only trying to help him. It was practically a repeat of what happened to Eric when he tried to comfort him. He walked over and gently held his hand on Charlie's shoulder.

"Best to give him some space," he said, "He's got a lot on his plate."

Charlie gently removed Eric’s hand and sulked as she walked towards the bar, leaning on with her arms crossed. Vaggie stood beside her, holding onto her shoulders with compassion and care. Husk gave Charlie what looked like a cosmopolitan, as she slowly reached and took a tiny sip from the glass. Eric drank down the last of his drink and placed the cup back on the bar, looking at the two women beside him.

“I hope you understand I wasn’t trying to sabotage anything you had to do with Angel,” said Eric, “He told me about his problems and I only felt best to try and give him a little relief…”

Eric noticed Charlie turning in her chair and faced him with a stern look in her eyes. It was almost uncomfortable to look at.

“I want you to promise me you won’t try to interfere in any way,” she said as she pointed her index finger at him.

“Okay, I promise--”

“No, I need a strong promise.”

Charlie flipped her pinky finger out, pointing towards Eric as she kept her serious face.

“You… You’re serious with this,” asked Eric as he looked at her perplexed.

“I am deadly serious, Eric,” she replied, “I need you to pinky swear that you won’t do anything to sabotage Angel’s path towards redemption, no matter how long it takes.”

Eric chuckled under his breath and brought his pinky finger out to reciprocate the agreement. The two hooked their pinkies together and with one small shake, the promise was made.

“And thus, the deed is done,” said Alastor as he walked down the hall with his newspaper.

Eric scowled at Alastor for a little bit, then stood up from his seat and walked in between Vaggie and Charlie.

"So, what's the agenda for tomorrow," asked Eric.

"Well, Vaggie and I were discussing that earlier," Charlie began, "and we decided that you can help us with the renovation of some of these rooms."

"How many rooms need renovations?"

"They’re mostly the recreational rooms," replied Vaggie, "such as the ballroom, the theater, the gym, and even the penthouse."

"I see…"

"Of course we’ll have you start with the closet door…"

"Of course…"

"But we'll work some things out and take our time with them," replied Charlie.

"And how about the subject of sending me home?"

Charlie lowered her head in sadness, as Vaggie patted her on the back gently.

"It may take longer to figure that out, I'm afraid," she said in a low voice.

Eric could only sigh in response, feeling like he was up Shit Creek without a paddle.

"If worse comes to worst…"

"Please don't tell your father," said Eric as he held his hands up.

"I can only promise that as a last-minute resort. Otherwise, there may not be any other choice."

Eric facepalmed at her response, sighing with great aggravation as he turned around and walked down the hall.

“A last-minute resort, she says… What other options are there?”

No amount of weed or booze could circumvent his predicament. All he could do was hope for the best and hope her father never finds out about his existence in Hell. His thoughts were interrupted by a door slowly opening from the inside down the hall. Looking further, he could see a faint orange color emitting from inside. He cautiously walked closer, making sure no one was going to pop out and scare him for an easy prank. But as he got closer, he saw no one come out or any lively figure around.

Inside the room looked like a rich study, even with it looking as grim as the rest of the hotel. The orange light turned out to be a medium-sized fireplace burning bright from the right side of the room, covered by a metal cover with a design reminiscent of a set of lions. Near the fireplace were a set of lounge chairs made of crimson cloth. The far left of the room looked like a private library, as a large bookcase covered the wall except for a small door nearby. In the middle of the room was a shelving case that held what looked like a series of vinyl records, with a vintage gramophone record player on top and a series of expensive liquor and drinking glasses. This looked too good to be someone’s own room.

Eric walked towards the record player and looked over the apparatus, from the speaker to the lever and the needle. No record was left inside the player, so he helped himself to find a record to play. Leaning down, he skimmed through several albums as each didn’t seem to catch his eye. He then found one that caught his eye. It was a simple cover but the label of the record was shown through a hole, reading “That Syncopated Boogie Boo” by Premier Quartette. Out of his own curiosity, Eric gently took the record out of the cover and gently placed it inside the player. Then he switched the player on and gently moved the lever onto the vinyl itself. A brief moment of silence occurred until he heard a brass section begin to play. As he listened to the music begin to play, he looked over the rows of alcohol set before him on his right. Some were familiar brand names of alcohol he knew from Earth but there were a few in more expensive-looking bottles with no labels. He took one large bottle at random and sniffed inside. The scent was almost like a sweet spice, something like a stick of cinnamon. Before he could take a chance, he heard a singer’s vocals begin to play.

_A melody is like a ghost  
That sneaks around from post to post  
A humming,  
I'm coming, coming  
(I hear his laughter)_

As the song continued, he grabbed a small glass and poured to fill roughly 1/8th of the glass. As he poured, he noticed a small bucket by the far right of the rows of alcohol. Placing the bottle back, he opened the bucket and found a set of fresh ice cubes inside and a small pair of tongs inside. Grabbing the tongs, he placed three cubes of ice inside, then set the tongs back inside and closed the lid on top. He heard the brief pause of the singers and heard their chorus line as he looked at his drink with curiosity.

_Oh that syncopated Boogie Boo (Boogie Boo, Boogie Boo)  
He's after me (after me, after me)  
He's after you  
Get away, get away, get away  
He'll try to tie you with a music chord (music chord, music chord)  
And then Oh lord he'll yell with glee,  
"Come along with me,  
learn my melody  
That's your penalty"_

As the song continued, he took a small sip of the alcohol and finally took in the sweet and spicy taste, nearly choking from the near bitter flavor he consumed. Despite a minor aftertaste, Eric seemed intrigued by the flavor and pondered over what kind of alcohol it was.

_Definitely isn’t whiskey. Couldn’t be scotch. Could it be a brandy? Or is it cognac?_

Eric shrugged off the flavor test and made his way to the lounge chairs, all while the song began to play another brass piece. Eric sat in the chair, embracing the warm comfort. He nearly sunk in the cushions itself as he felt the warmth of the cloth, along with the gentle heat from the fireplace nearby. As Eric took in the comfort and took another gentle sip from his drink, the song began its next verse.

_This Boogie Boo does not pay the rent  
He sleeps in some old instrument  
A groaning, a - moaning, moaning  
(Feed him, I dare you!)  
You never know when he is near  
Until he whispers in your ear,  
"I'll get you, be glad I met you”  
(Don’t let him scare you!)_

Eric listened to the song’s lyrics, chuckling over the absurdity in the messages. But as he continued to listen, he felt somewhat light-headed while his eyes began to lower out of his own control. The music’s nostalgic quality seemed to be fading in an echo reverberation. In fact, Eric felt like he was in a long tunnel and could hardly shake the feeling. During his moment drifting out of consciousness, he noticed the small door down the other end by the bookshelves slowly opening. Each time his eyes opened and closed, the door opened wider and a faint light began to glow from inside. Eric tried to keep his eyes open and focused his vision on the door. And while it was hard to see at first, he could swear the glow was a set of eyes looking at him.

A set of eyes looking at him…

And underneath those eyes was a small smile slowly stretching.

The concept finally dawned on him as he shifted out of his seat and stood up quick to escape. But he stood up too fast and felt his balance shifting around as if he was on a boat stuck in a storm. His vision began to blur slightly and he felt like a tremendous weight was pinning him down from his shoulders. Either he was suffering from a severe case of vertigo or the alcohol was poisoned. Either way, he was not willing to stay here any longer than he needed to be. He staggered his way to the exit, only to find the door slamming shut in front of him. He began to trip towards the door, as he slammed face-first on the door itself. Regaining a fraction of his consciousness Eric grabbed the doorknob, only to find that it wouldn’t open let alone turn.

“No… don’t do thisssss… Please, lemme oouuuutta here…”

His slurred speech was near deadpan but still had a sense of panic in his tone. As he continued his struggle to escape and regain his consciousness, he briefly looked back and saw through his blurred vision a red figure slowly approaching him, the music in the background continued to play during his conundrum.

“Lemme… Oh fffffuck… Lemme outta here… Don’t… Urgh God… Don’t kill me…”

Eric could only grasp the doorknob with both hands, as his legs felt like wet noodles and slowly slid on the carpet. He slowly fell to the floor on his knees, as he looked up at the figure above him through his intoxicated vision.

“It would seem you’re in quite the predicament, my boy…”

The sound of static was heard from the figure, as the voice sounded familiar despite the high intoxicated level Eric was on. His eyelids felt heavier and his body felt weaker. Just before he could finally collapse, he heard the last lyrics from the record play out.

_Find that syncopated Boogie Boo_  
_(Boogie Boo, Boogie Boo!)_  
_BOO!_


	8. Temerity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eric's off to a bad start, as he tells Husk about the rough night he's been through and what he had to endure...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are about to get pretty damn heavy with this once. Expect a few obscure movie references. I got a chapter based around some labor work in the hotel but will try to make more interesting scenes/chapters after that one.

### Chapter 8 - Temerity

A calm early morning for Hell. Same shit different day. That’s what went through Husker’s alcohol-induced mind as he cleaned up the bar. And by cleaning, he basically used a dirty rag and literally spit-shined the bar itself. As he was cleaning, he noticed a figure coming from the hallway. He noticed it was Eric coming towards him. He also noticed the look of death and despair in his eyes. Eric came up to the bar and sat on the barstool, arms crossed.

"The fuck happened to you," asked Husk.

"Nightmares all night," replied Eric, "Not like you give fuck…"

"You're right, I don't."

Eric sat at the bar and rested his head on his crossed arms. Husk grabbed a bottle of cheap booze from under the bar and took a swig. He looked back at Eric to see he hadn't moved or said anything. He hardly looked up at Husk even for the sake of sympathy. He placed his drink down on the bar and looked down at him.

"You wanna talk about it?"

Eric didn't even move his head or looked back up at him. Just moped by the bar.

"How about a shot of whiskey to wake you up?"

Eric sighed, still not moving.

"Sure, why not?"

Husk grabbed a bottle of whiskey and two small shot glasses and placed them down. He served the two shots of whiskey and gave one to Eric. Eric moved up and grabbed the shot and gulped it down so fast like it was nothing. He hardly reacted to the taste as he kept down with ease. Husk took his shot and gulped it down and let out a small cough.

"So, I heard you went into Al's room."

"Give me another shot…"

“Mind tellin’ me why you went into his room?”

“Just give me another fucking shot…”

“Not until you tell me what happe--”

Eric slammed his fists on the bar.

“JUST GIVE ME ANOTHER FUCKING SHOT, GODDAMNIT!”

"I ain't a fucking soda fountain for you to make refills! Tell me what happened."

Eric looked back at Husk with a scowl.

"Why the fuck should I? It's not like you even give two shits about me or what I do here."

"When it comes to Alastor, I make it my business," replied Husk as he placed the bottle out of sight.

"What happened in Al's room?"

Eric slowly turned his head to the side, a faint glimmer of tears welling up in his eyes. He breathed in and let out a heavy sigh, trying to keep his composure.

“I don’t know why I went in… It was almost like something… or rather someone wanted me to go in… So I went in and looked over his records and just chose a random song to play. Then I helped myself to a little alcohol. As I listened to the song though, I began to feel hazy and was losing a bit of consciousness… I also noticed a certain someone watching me from across the room… I tried to leave but the door was locked shut before I could escape… Then I passed out by the door…”

“Then what happened?”

Eric was silent for a short while. Just trying to remember what happened was a challenge.

“I just remember feeling like I was paralyzed…”

* * *

Unconscious.

Unresponsive.

These and many others described Eric's predicament. The sounds of the music he had listened to had faded away. The haze he was under made him feel weak and limp. He couldn't tell where he was anymore. Was he in Hell? Was he back on Earth? Through his state, words kept flowing through his mind in a faded loop. He could hardly make out what they said at first, but the voice sounded familiar. The words echoed for a short while until he could hear them clearly in his mind.

"You can't save him"

The words felt haunting, demeaning. They echoed in his mind for what felt like an eternity. He could hardly move or say anything in his state. He couldn't even wake up even if he tried. His eyes felt like they were sealed shut forever. His limbs felt like anvils, planted in the ground.

"You can't save him"

His eyes flinched each time he heard those words. He felt sad, miserable. Tears peeked through his eyelids.

"You can't save him"

Soon the sadness was replaced by anger. It felt like the words taunted him, mocked him. His right hand was flat but now slowly formed into a fist. The words echoed in his mind, greatly increasing his anger.

" **DADDY!** "

* * *

Eric awoke in a cold sweat. He found himself in a bedroom different from what he was in before. The bed was a king-sized bed as he was covered in a thick, crimson comforter. He shifted out of his bed and walked towards the door, wearing a white t-shirt, a pair of sweatpants, and a pair of moccasin slippers. He opened the door to investigate the scream. As he walked down the hall, he could hear the sounds of someone sobbing. He walked further down and opened the last door on his left. Inside, he was in what looked like a children's bedroom. A small figure on the bed was covered by a thick light blue comforter, with tufts of white hair peeking out the top. Sounds of sobbing were heard from under the fabric. Eric moved towards the bed and gently pulled the comforter away, revealing a small yet familiar face.

"D… Daddy…"

The sad, scared voice belonged to a small young child. But the child in question was actually Angel Dust. Though the spider demon wasn't the same as Eric knew. He was barely half his size, looking frail and fragile. The facial features remained the same, with a lot of tears running down his face. The young demon was holding a small pig plushie, gripping it for dear life. Out of instinct, Eric gently pulled the young demon in for a hug, hearing Angel sobbing profusely in his embrace. Eric slowly moved out of the hug, trying to wipe his tears away.

"Daddy… there's a monster in my closet… He said he was going to get me…"

Eric shushed Angel as he patted him on his back gently. He then moved off of the bed and walked towards the closet across the room.

"No, Daddy! Don't do it! The monster will get you!"

Eric turned around and smiled back at him with a look of confidence. He grabbed the doorknob and slowly opened the door. As it opened, it revealed nothing but clothes on hangers and toys on the ground. He closed the door again and turned towards Angel with a warm smile on his face. Before he could even say anything, he saw the look of fear and despair on Angel’s face, clinging onto the pig plushie like it was a life preserver. Concerned, Eric turned back around towards the door, only to see exactly what Angel could see.

Blocking the closet door was a tall figure, nearly eight feet high. The figure wore a red fur coat and a furry top hat to match, with an antennae and a feather poking at the sides of the hat. Four long arms stretched outward, with the upper left arm holding a cigarette that emitted red smoke from the end. Red smoke also emitted from the wicked smile of the figure before him, sharp fangs shining slightly in the darkness, a gold tooth practically glowing. The figure looked down at Eric with its red insect eyes through a pair of golden heart-shaped glasses, letting out a deep, dark chuckle.

Eric turned around to look at Angel, only to find he was caught within the grasp of a young woman. Of course she hardly looked like a normal woman. Her outfit looked like something a child would wear but was suited in a twisted fashion, even with the pink hearts on the skirt and pink stripes on her sleeves. Her hair was a big poofy mess even if it was braided in pigtails, as the red, brown, and white were prevalent. Beneath the bushy hair were a pair of red eyes with white irises and a wide grin that bared her pearly whites. She was playfully taunting little Angel with his pig plushie, making pig noises as she prodded him in the face with it while holding onto his face with a strong grip. Angel could only sob as tears flooded his eyes once more, looking at Eric for help. The woman then looked up at Eric with the same wicked grin.

Eric walked over towards the two on the bed, only to have someone grab his arm and spin him away. A brief loss of his balance, he saw a third figure near the bedroom door. The figure was taller than he was, wearing a black pinstripe suit with a red and black vest underneath and a red bowtie. The suit wasn’t even the most striking feature as he looked up to see the figure had a large flatscreen TV for a head with a top hat on top. The screen switched on, revealing a twisted face shining within the dark atmosphere of the room. The face had one small eye and one larger eye both glaring red, smiling a toothy grin with light blue sharp teeth and red lines down the lower corner of its lips. The figure gave a chuckle with an electronic filter.

Eric was surrounded by newfound figures, each looking more menacing than the other. He slowly moved towards the bed to try and reach out to Angel, only for the TV figure to grab his arm and twirl him towards the figure by the closet door. The figure grabbed Eric with its lower arms on his arms and his upper arms around his neck. Eric could feel the tight grip on his throat, struggling to breathe within the grasp. He could barely move his arms around as the figure pulled his arms out too far for him to reach. He then lifted Eric up off the ground, letting out a sinister laugh as red smoke blew outwards and into Eric’s face. Through his struggles, Eric could hear the other characters laughing with the taller figure, as he was being brought towards the window by the bed, covered by large white curtains. Then with the quickest of ease, Eric was thrown out of the window through the glass and curtains.

* * *

Eric found himself tumbling down on the ground, as the environment had changed into a snowy landscape. Despite the minor pain he was in, Eric looked up at the building he was thrown out of, only to find nothing but snow and trees surrounding him. Despite not being properly dressed, he could hardly feel cold, although he could see his breath in front of his face. He walked through the forest, trying to find some sort of salvation. But between the density of the winter weather, it was hard to see what was over ten feet in front of him. Suddenly he heard a faint noise from the right. Sounded like a few twigs snapping in the distance. He walked through the trees to find the source of the sound. He walked further down for a short while before coming across a small open area near a frozen lake. But when he got closer, he realized how much danger he was in.

In the small clearing by a river was a creature that had the figure of a deer but a shaggy shape of a beast. Its fur was crimson red with a frizz indicating its unkempt nature. Its ribcage was more than noticeable as pieces of skin were exposed, revealing his bones and blood all over its torso. Its legs were in a similar nature between the coat and exposed skin, yet its hooves resembled that of a reindeer with its tips being sharpened, painted in more blood. But the most dreadful sight was of the head itself. The head was mostly a skull that resembled the nature of a deer but had red glowing eyes under the sockets, black antlers that looked too crooked and too large for any deer, and its teeth were sharper than any predator. The face was smothered in blood as it was eating its meal below; a large burly figure that donned a pair of denim jeans, a black shirt, and a brown leather vest. The face was hardly noticeable since the beast was eating the head off completely.

Sickened by the gory sight before him, Eric slowly backed away from the scene, only to step on a set of branches behind him. The beast turned around quickly, its red eyes glowing brighter than a pair of headlights. Eric froze in fear for a short moment then made a mad dash for his life. The creature let out a loud roar that sounded like horrendous radio static as it gave chase. Eric ran through the woods, searching for any source of salvation or protection. But as he ran, the winter weather grew worse. The snowfall came down heavier and faster, the winter fog grew thicker. Soon Eric found himself bumping into several trees, all while trying to avoid being trapped or eaten by the beast. But it seemed useless as he could hear the echoing clatter of the hooves growing closer, the sound of radio static growing stronger and louder. Suddenly from the corner of his eye, he could see a brown door in the middle of the forest. Taking no other chance, Eric sprinted towards the door, getting closer as the snow grew fiercer. He grasped the doorknob and widely opened it, revealing a new location inside. He turned back to see the beast getting closer, ready to strike. Eric slammed the door shut and twisted the lock in place.

The door remained shut.

No physical force was felt from against the door.

No sounds of the beast could be heard.

All was peaceful.

All was still.

* * *

Eric looked around to find himself in a new location. This time it was extremely familiar to him. It looked rustic, nostalgic even. That's when it dawned on him; this was his old childhood home. Right down to the nightstand full of photographs of himself as a child with his parents.

"Eric! Can you come down here?"

A familiar voice came from downstairs in the basement. He approached the basement door and opened it, as he saw a light shining downstairs as the light swung around. Cautiously, Eric went towards the stairs and slowly walked down the steps. As he walked down, he saw a shadow moving back and forth. Eric reached into the pocket of his sweatpants and pulled out a small pocket knife, keeping it close to his chest as he readied the blade by slowly pulling it back.

"There you are, honey."

Eric nearly jumped off of the last step as he heard the voice. He looked and saw his mother approach him with a laundry basket.

"Can you take these towels and fold them, please?"

Without saying a word, Eric slowly took the basket of towels. He looked back at his mother for a second, then back at the towels. His mind deep in thought over the whole situation.

"Oh, and can you take this upstairs too?"

He snapped out of his thoughts and saw his mother approach with a small antique radio.

"I wanna see if it still works."

She placed the radio on top of the towels, as the interface and speaker faced Eric's chest. Eric looked at the radio with curiosity, wondering where it came from and how old it was. Meanwhile, his mother was busy placing clothes inside the empty dryer. As she did, the shape of a hand appeared as a shadow on the wall above her. She looked up and noticed it, then turned around as she saw a pair of yellow fangs appear as a low growl was heard.

"AAAHH!!!"

Eric snapped out of his trance and looked over to see a shaggy figure right in front of his mother, as it shoved her against the dryer then swung a large claw from up in the air, slashing her right shoulder as a large gash of blood trickled down her arm.

"MOM!"

The figure turned around, revealing to be the beast Eric saw outside but looked completely different. It stood on its hind leg hooves which were thicker than before, it had large arms and hands with thick, sharp claw-like hands. The fur it had was dirtier and bloodier than he had seen before. The face was somewhat similar, with the exception of the skull having dark skin on it and its eyes looking more demonic, with no glow to them. The beast let out a growl, blood and drool dripping from its muzzle and fangs.

Eric cowardly dashed towards the basement steps for safety, leaving his mother to fend for herself. As the beast looked on at Eric, his mother reached for a hammer lying on the ground. She grabbed it with her left hand and swung with all of her might at the head of the beast. The impact hardly did any damage, only making the beast angrier than ever. It bared its fangs and roared like a rabid wolf, then lunged toward Eric's mother with great ferocity. Eric yelled in fear as he saw the beast and his mother caught in a dangerous scuffle. His fear prevented him from interfering with the fight, feeling too cowardly to do anything. His mother broke out of the scuffle for a brief moment to reach out for help. Eric tried to reach out to grab her, roughly a foot away from her, only for the beast to pull her away from him and slam her against the stairs. With its claws pinning her against the stairs, the beast leaned in and sunk its fangs into her neck. Eric's mother gave out one last scream before the fangs reached deep into her throat and jugular.

"NO, MOM!"

The beast pulled away as it tore flesh from the neck of Eric's mother. Blood poured out in great gory excess. She choked and gagged on her own blood spurting out of her mouth, the gaping hole in her neck glistening as the crimson spilled down her chest. She reached out to try and stop the beast, only to have it swipe its claw at her face, swinging her head towards Eric with a tremendous gash across her face, bleeding heavily from the impact. While her right eye was obliterated from the gash, her left eye twitched slightly. Eric looked on with great fear and panic, feeling his heart plummet down to his stomach. Welling up inside his lungs belted out a gut-wrenching scream, mixed with dread and sadness, as tears fell from his eyes. As the beast continued to feast on the lifeless body of his mother, Eric ran up the stairs in a panic. Through his heavy run up the stairs, Eric could hear the sickening sounds of flesh and bone being eaten in a grisly fashion. Nearly gagging from the sounds, Eric came to the top and slammed the door shut.

* * *

After closing the door, Eric found himself in a different location. The house looked almost rustic yet empty. Sounds of heavy rain came from outside, as he saw from a large window in another room. Without thinking, Eric ran towards the front door to escape. When opening the door, his fear was amplified to another level. Outside the door was the body of Angel Dust. His body was lifeless, a large bloody gash across his face, all six of his arms were nailed to the frame of the door. Eric gasped in fear, tears continued to flow down his cheeks. His fear would only increase once he saw Angel's head rise up to look at him.

"You can't save me…"

His voice sounded like a radio filter, as his neck was showing a large gaping hole while blood was flowing out like a cup overflown. His eyes were glowing in a red color scheme. Eric held his hand to his mouth, trying not to scream. He could only sob at the sight set before him. Angel’s head slowly lowered back down, his eyes closing as the glow faded. Eric slowly backed away from the door, still in shock at the sight.

“Meat is meat… Bone is bone…”

The familiar voice came from behind. Eric turned to see the familiar sight of Alastor but he looked somewhat different. His red shirt was covered by a pale yellow apron covered in blood, the sleeves of his shirt were rolled and tucked past his elbows. Although he smiled the same wicked grin he always had, sounds of a deer screaming were heard through a radio filter. Before Eric could say or do anything, Alastor grabbed him by his shoulder and raised a large mallet in the air. Then he brought it down with one heavy swing and all that was left was a loud CRACK!

* * *

“NOOO!!!”

Eric woke up in a cold sweat. He panted heavily as he woke up to find himself in his hotel room, lying on the bed with his clothes on. He wiped the sweat from his brow and looked over on his nightstand to see a small note with his name on it. Reluctantly, he took the note and read it.

_Perhaps now you’ve learned not to enter someone’s domicile without permission._

_Enjoy your first day of work!_

_-Alastor_

Eric looked at the letter with tears of anger in his eyes. He held the paper with his left hand and crumpled it tightly. Enraged, he then began to punch the wall several times, ignoring the pain in his knuckles. With one last punch, he then placed his hands on the wall, letting the paper fall to the floor. He then slowly slid onto his knees and began to cry, tears falling down on the floor.

* * *

“I sat in that spot for a long while before finally coming out here to drown my sorrows in alcohol,” said Eric as he finished his story.

Husk looked down at Eric as he hardly moved from his seat or his position. A moment of silence hung in the air as Eric tried to hold back tears once more. He dug inside his back pocket and pulled out the note Alastor left him earlier, placing it on the bar.. Even as the paper had been crumpled up, Husk could tell Alastor’s handwriting without hesitation.

“It’s like he purposely wants to fuck with me at every chance he gets,” said Eric as he rubbed the back of his head.

“Kid, he fucks around with everyone on a daily basis,” replied Husk as he pulled out the bottle of whiskey, “It’s basically any form of entertainment to him, next to his murders or his broadcasts or both.”

Eric sighed in aggravation, as he noticed Husker pouring in the two shot glasses. He reached out to grab his glass but was interrupted when Husk took the glass away from him.

“But no amount of alcohol is going to prevent that from happening time and time again.”

Husk took his own shot glass and drank it down in a flash, still keeping Eric’s shot to himself. Eric looked at him in anger.

“Besides… he told me about what you said about his mom yesterday…”

“Oh so what now, you’re taking his side,” asked Eric with frustration.

“I’m on no one’s fuckin’ side,” groused Husk, “I’m right where I usually am; away from the action and left the fuck alone like I want to.”

“So then what’s the point?”

Husk took a brief moment as he took the bottle of whiskey and served himself another shot. He held the glass up near his face, twirling it around gently.

“Al’s got some sort of agenda but even I can never figure it out,” replied Husk in a soft tone, “I can never make heads or tails out of half the shit he does… But I think deep down, he can be a bit of a softie…”

“Yeah right…”

“Why else would you still be alive right here and now?”

“So he doesn’t get on Charlie’s bad side and possibly get kicked out?”

Husk chuckled at the response, prepping another shot.

“Well, you’re not wrong there… And besides, I caught him messing around with you while you were napping in your room yesterday…”

Eric looked at Husk with wide eyes, as he took another shot for himself.

“Yeah right before dinner. Seemed especially interested in messing with you further. Caught him copping a feel on you too.”

“ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS,” yelled Eric.

Husk winced at Eric’s shout, the alcohol binge already making things worse for him with an impending hangover.

“No, I was just fuckin’ with you,” replied Husk as he rubbed his ears, “Jesus, take a fuckin’ joke, will ya?”

Eric calmed down a bit but was still angry at the concept.

“Al wouldn’t do anything like that anyway. He’s as--”

“A fucking ace, I know,” Eric interrupted.

Husk looked at Eric as he rested on his folded arms on the bar. Husk slid Eric’s drink back to him as he poured another shot for himself.

“I just wonder what those three figures have to do with Alastor or Angel,” said Eric as he took a small sip of his shot.

“Those are the Three Vs,” replied Husk in a dark tone.

“The Three Vs?”

“Valentino, Vox, and Velvet…”

Eric looked back at Husk with a bewildered look, recognizing Valentino’s name in a heartbeat.

“Valentino is--”

“Angel’s pimp,” Eric interrupted with concern in his voice.

“You know about him?”

“Angel told me last night.”

Husk visibly winced at his reply but tried to shake it off.

“He must be that big of a deal then…”

“Like you wouldn’t fuckin’ believe,” Husk replied solumnly.

“And what about the other two?”

Eric took another small sip of his shot while Husk looked off the side as he took in another gulp of his own.

“Velvet is a bit of a mystery,” replied Husk, “All I know is that she’s big on social media in Hell, so much so that she is willing to kill anyone that tries to rival her own status. That and potion making as well…”

“Huh… so she’s like a mix between Lizzie Borden and Kim Kardashian?”

“I don’t know anything about this Kardashian broad you’re talkin’ about but yeah kinda like Lizzie Borden in a way…”

Eric nodded in reply as he took the last of his shot and placed the glass on the bar.

“And what about Vox? What’s his story?”

“ _The technological tyrant_ …”

“AAH!!”

Eric jumped from his seat to see Alastor sitting right beside him, his smile somewhat smaller than he had noticed.

“Vox is known to use any form of modern technology and beyond for his own purposes,” he continued, “Most of which is for the sake of attention… especially towards me…”

“Towards you,” asked Eric, “What, does he have some sort of crush on you?”

Alastor swung his head around towards Eric, his eyes glowing red while bearing his fangs in a rather intimidating fashion. The sounds of static grew fierce and ear-wrenchingly loud.

“Well he’s not that far off,” replied Husk with a smirk.

Alastor darted his gaze towards Husk, the sounds and sneer hardly fading.

“I despise that bastard more than any new apparatus he takes interest in, even if he brands it after his own miserable name… Not to mention how he whores himself on that damnable Voxtagram more than his accomplices or Angel for that matter…”

“Voxtagram? Don’t you mean Instagram?”

Husk pulled out his own smartphone, enveloped in a red case with a yellow heart on the back. He pressed the screen a few times and showed Eric the app itself.

“Not sure what Instagram is to you,” he said as he aimed the screen at him, “But this is what the app is.”

Eric took Husk’s phone and looked at the app itself, which hardly looked any different than Instagram looked like, except the name itself shown on the top left corner in a different font than Instagram’s cursive style font. As Eric looked through the app, Husk served Alastor a small glass of cognac, who took to it with ease. Looking further into the app, Eric looked through what seemed to be Husk’s own personal page, filled with several images of Husk and the rest of the group of the hotel. He skimmed through each image until he noticed one of Alastor drinking from the bar.

“What the fuck…?”

Eric looked closer to see the distortion of Alastor’s face. It was hard to describe considering how it looked like an erroneous glitch had seemingly ruined his own face but could still make out the redness of his eyes and sharp fangs through it all.

“The hell happened with this pic?”

Eric passed the phone back to Husk, who looked closely at the image itself.

“Yeah, sumbitch took the drink I was mixin’ before I could take a good pic--”

“No no,” interrupted Eric, “I mean with Al’s face here.”

Alastor took notice and looked back at Husk with a peculiar glare. Husk barely paid any attention to him as he looked closer at the picture. Husk gave off a small chuckle as he looked back at the two.

“That’s Al bein’ a little camera shy,” replied Husk.

Alastor drank the rest of his drink with a sense of impatience and irritation, his scowl growing fierce. Eric chuckled to himself over Alastor’s reactions.

“I would rather suffer in the lowest level of Hell than become swept into the technological tripe you and every other degenerate around,” groused Alastor as he stood up from the bar and took his leave.

“Yet the gramophone and radio are basically the stepping stones of the modern technology we have today,” chimed Eric.

Alastor spun back around with his scowl returning. Eric stood up from the bar and walked over towards him.

“I’m sorry that you feel the need to cling to the past like a sailor clings to a life preserver, but everything changes; people change, landscapes change, technology changes.”

Alastor looked down at Eric, his scowl slowly forming back into his signature smile.

“You’ve lived in a time period of fads that have become completely outdated and you have my pity,” continued Eric, “But even after that came more ridiculous fads; the Charleston, crooners, doo-wop bands, rock n’ roll heartthrobs, honky-tonk, beatniks, hippies, disco, the list goes on… I’m sure you and every other outdated group have been holding onto your past like an infant latches onto a taint for sustenance, but even children will outgrow the fads they experience.”

A short pause hung in the air, as Alastor and Eric kept their eyes glued to each other. Husk stood by the bar and cleaned the glasses while watching the situation with curiosity.

“So what is your point, my boy,” asked Alastor with mock curiosity.

Eric walked up closer to Alastor, his stare stuck on Alastor’s eyes.

“Honestly, I don’t have a point…”

>>THWACK!<<

A sharp thrust landed swiftly on Alastor’s groin, as he began to reel over in pain. Slowly, he arched himself towards Eric, his knees slowly falling to the ground. He could hardly speak or utter anything. All he could do was gasp for air slightly, his hands reaching towards his groin in solace. His head positioned towards the floor as he coughed from the pain. Husk’s eyes widened in shock as he witnessed a rather unthinkable situation.

“I just wanted to get into a good position to kick your fucking balls in…”

Eric shook his foot slightly, the impact was a bit stronger than he had anticipated. But having to kick Alastor in the nuts was completely satisfactory in his opinion. He walked up to Alastor’s hunched form and leaned into the side of his head, holding his hand close to what he assumed was his ear.

“I don’t care anymore if you try to kill me or whatever… But if you ever play those kinds of mind games on me again, especially with my mother… I will force-feed you your testicles and stick that little pruny penis of yours up your tight asshole…”

Alastor said nothing as he continued to cough from the pain he was in. Eric patted Alastor on the back gently, then slowly walked away towards the hall. He whistled a little tune as he strolled down the way. Then he sang loud enough to be heard.

Eric:  
Oh that syncopated Boogie Boo  
He's after me  
He's after you  
Get away, get away, get away  
He'll try to tie you with a music chord  
And then Oh lord he'll yell with glee,  
"Come along with me,  
learn my melody  
That's your penalty"

Eric whistled the rest of the song as he went further down the hall. Alastor, meanwhile, picked himself up from off of the floor. Husk witnessed as he slowly moved himself upwards without hesitation or any strain. Then he heard a particular sound; laughter. It was faint but it was noticeable. Alastor stood on his own two legs and let out a small set of laughter as his smile grew.

“I really like that boy…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While the first two dream sequences are somewhat original, the last two sequences are based on several different sequences. The third one is based on a scene from 'The Crate' segment from "Creepshow" (1982), while the last sequence was inspired by brief scenes from "Friday the 13th: The Final Chapter" and "The Texas Chainsaw Massacre" (1974) [with a brief quote from 'Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Beginning' (2006)].


	9. Whistle While You Work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One modest breakfast later and Eric begins working around the hotel. Of course, there's always time for a little bit of fun, isn't there?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Been meaning to have this chapter finished sooner than expected. But between work being a little busier (thanks to the snow plowing I did last week) and a little procrastination, it hasn't been easy.

### Chapter 9 - Whistle While You Work

Eric stood in the kitchen and pondered what to have for breakfast before he could get any work done. He searched the cabinets but found only a box of what looked like cereal.

“Voot Floop? What, is this a knock off of Froot Loops?”

Eric took the box and shook it slightly, feeling how light it was from the inside.

“Damn, not even enough for a bowl…”

He placed the box back and walked to the fridge for any actual food. Inside, he found a carton of what seemed to be two dozen eggs inside and a pack of what looked like bacon.

“Ah, a little old-fashioned…”

He took the eggs out and grabbed the pack of bacon. As he brought it out, he noticed the bacon was actually a thick set of turkey bacon.

“Huh… Not what I was expecting, but what the hell?”

He placed the items by the stove and searched for some pans to fry them in. He scavenged the upper levels and found two decent sized pans. He placed both on the stove and switched on the ignition for the fire. As he waited for the pans to warm up, he looked around the lower cabinets to find cooking spray. But through each spot he searched, he couldn’t find a can.

“Well, time for Plan B…”

He went into the fridge once again and pulled out a stick of butter. He took a fork and a knife from one of the drawers and sliced a small piece of butter to place in one of the pans. He then took the knife to spread it around inside the pan, watching it melt so easily inside. He then opened the pack of turkey bacon and placed three slices in the buttered pan. The sounds of the pan sizzling the slivers of poultry were almost satisfying to hear. While not as satisfying as kicking Alastor in the testicles, but within the top ten so far. He walked to the sink to wash his hands from touching the raw meat and took to the egg container. Roughly nine eggs were left in the carton so Eric took only two for himself, hoping there would be enough for everyone else. He cracked the shells and poured in the yolks inside the pan, watching the whites and yellows sizzling inside.

“Mm-mmm… The perfect sounds of breakfast…”

As the food cooked, Eric searched for some spatulas through the drawers. Thankfully he found two good-sized spatulas and took to work. He flipped each slice of bacon then began to scramble his eggs gently. The process continued through slow succession. Eventually, he finished cooking after the eggs were well-scrambled and the turkey bacon turned into a near dark complexion.

“Now that’s a good-looking breakfast…”

“Good morning Eric!”

Eric turned to find Charlie, Vaggie, and Niffty entering the kitchen. Charlie and Vaggie wore loose shirts and shorts while Niffty wore a small set of pajamas. Charlie had her usual smile but Vaggie and Niffty were rubbing their single eyes in their own groggy fashion.

“Oh, morning ladies,” replied Eric, “How are you three doing?”

“Can’t talk,” groaned Vaggie.

“Need caffeine,” groaned Niffty.

Eric watched as Vaggie took out three mugs while Niffty reached up towards the counter, reaching aimlessly towards the coffee maker in front of her. She began to groan like an infant nearing a tantrum.

“Hang on there, little lady,” said Eric as he placed his breakfast on the counter.

Niffty barely did anything until she managed to reach the controls of the coffee maker and pressed several buttons. She smiled a wide grin as she heard it turn on and produce heat. Of course this wouldn’t have happened if Eric hadn’t lifted her up closer towards the coffee maker. He felt almost like a big brother helping a little sister reach for the cookie jar, chuckling as he slowly placed her back on the ground.

“You’re welcome by the way,” said Eric as he took his plate.

“Don’t worry about that Eric,” said Charlie as she approached him, “They’re just not 100% morning people like you or me.”

“Well I only woke up early because of… Nevermind, it’s not important.”

Charlie looked at Eric with concern in her eyes. Eric grabbed a glass from the cabinet and went back to the fridge to find a carton of orange juice inside. Charlie approached Eric as he poured the juice in his glass.

“GIMME SOME COFFEE, YOU SOULLESS SHITBOX!”

“Nooooo, let me have my cup fiiiiiiirst…”

Charlie and Eric were surprised by the raging rant coming from Vaggie as she was shaking the coffee maker, Niffty pulled on her pants to try and stop her. Eric looked at Charlie with concern.

“Should I… do somethi--”

“Don’t worry about it Eric,” replied Charlie, “Go eat your breakfast, I’ll take care of this.”

Eric just shrugged off the situation and left the kitchen. As he made his way down the dining room, he heard a faint sound of something breaking in the background.

“ **_THAT IS ENOUGH!!!_ ** ”

The sheer sound of Charlie’s raging voice was more than enough proof to stay out of the kitchen for a while. He placed his plate and cup on the table and took to his breakfast. As he ate his eggs, he heard a faint sound of the door opening behind him. He turned to see the door slowly closing but saw no one around. He turned back to his meal, feeling unnerved as he cautiously ate his breakfast. He took a small sip of his juice until he felt something brush up against his legs.

"W-what the FUCK?!"

Scared, Eric looked down to see a pink figure under the table. Concerned, he looked under the table to see an unusual sight. From under the dining table, Eric saw a small rotund pig walking around. The pig was the size of a small dog and looked almost normal, with the exception of small spikes protruding from it's back and a small collar around its neck. It turned to face Eric with a few faint snorts and a modest oink.

"Uhh… hi there…"

The pig slowly approached Eric and came out from under the table to look up at him. Eric cautiously brought his hand to its snout, as the pig sniffed and snorted at it with curiosity. Then it licked it gently and oinked with a small smile on its face.

"Aww, aren't you cute?"

Eric leaned down to pick it up, holding it in his arms. The spikes on its back barely touched him or hurt him. The pig just oinked with happiness.

"So what's your name, li'l buddy?"

Eric noticed a small nametag on the collar and looked at it closely.

'Fat Nuggets'

"Huh… well, better than Porky or Babe…"

Eric looked into the eyes of the pig, as a thought crept in his head and a smile formed on his face.

"You remind me of the babe…"

Fat Nuggets oinked inquisitively.

"The babe with the power…"

He oinked again.

"The power of voodoo…"

Another oink.

"You do!"

"Do what?"

"Remind me of the babe!"

Eric gently booped Fat Nuggets' snout but not before realizing someone had spoken to him. He turned to see Angel Dust coming into the dining room, looking groggy.

"Wha's goin' on," asked Angel as he rubbed his eyes.

"Morning Angel," replied Eric, "I found this pig rubbing against my leg earlier."

Angel immediately opened his eyes and looked to see Fat Nuggets in Eric's arms. The pig looked over and reached its little hooves towards him.

"Nuggsy!"

Eric watched as Angel gently took Fat Nuggets out of his arms and into his own upper arms, gently hugging him and kissing him.

"How did my little ham hock get out of the room without Daddy? Sneakin' away so easily?"

"So that would make him… Spider-Pig?"

Angel and Fat Nuggets looked at Eric with blank stares, as Eric bared a smile almost as wide as Alastor's.

"I don't get it," replied Angel as he patted Fat Nuggets' head.

"Ehh doesn't matter," said Eric as he sat back down, "I didn't know you had a pet pig."

"He's my special li'l boy," said Angel as he brought Fat Nuggets to his own face, "Isn't that right, Nuggsy?"

Fat Nuggets oinked happily as Angel cooed and petted him dearly. Eric finished off his eggs as he watched them play around by the table. He took one slice of bacon and bit into it, as Fat Nuggets looked on with curiosity. Angel looked over and noticed Eric's breakfast with concern.

"Eric… what are you eatin'?"

Eric looked to see Angel glaring at him with a look of anger in his eyes.

"Ohh no no no," replied Eric hastily, "This isn't what you think it is. It's turkey bacon."

Angel's glare hardly faded but Fat Nuggets hopped out of his grip and landed on the table. He trotted towards Eric's plate and sniffed the other two slices on his plate, then took a small bite out of one of the pieces. He chewed for a little bit and squealed with delight as he took the rest of the piece off of the plate. Angel looked down in surprise as he saw his pet pig eating a piece of bacon right before his eyes.

"Seems like he enjoys it," said Eric as he took the last piece of bacon and ate it before he would lose it.

Fat Nuggets horked down the piece and let out a tiny burp, followed by a little oink in satisfaction. Angel picked him back up in his four arms, petting him gently with one arm.

"So how are you," asked Eric.

"Ehh, still livin' in this shithole," replied Angel, "but I can't fully complain about it… 'specially after what ya did for me…"

"I said I was your friend, Angel. And after what you told me last night about what you go through…"

Eric felt hesitant to talk anymore about what Angel goes through. He briefly thought back to his dream where he saw a young Angel and the towering figure that was his pimp, Valentino.

He didn't want to mention anything about it…

He couldn't…

So he won't.

"I just don't want anything to happen to you…"

“Not like there’s much you or anyone can do about it…”

Before Eric could say anything, Angel left the room with Fat Nuggets in his arms. All he could do was finish his scrambled eggs and drink the last of his juice. As much as he hated to admit it, there wasn’t much he could do to help Angel. Giving him money was the only thing he could do. Anything else was more than he could even handle. Eric stared at the remaining pieces of egg and grease stains on his plate, gently tapping his fork as he continued to think. But his thoughts were interrupted by the door opening behind him. He stood up hoping it was Angel, only to find Charlie coming inside holding a piece of toast in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other.

“Oh hey Charlie,” said Eric nonchalantly.

“Hello Eric,” replied Charlie as she gently munched on her toast, “Finished your breakfast already?”

“Uhh yeah, sure. What’s the agenda?”

“Well, you’re going to assist Niffty into cleaning the ballroom, then later on you can clean the theater.”

“Okay… Wait, what about the closet door?”

“Oh, Alastor took care of that last night.”

“Wait what?”

Charlie placed her coffee on the table and took another bite of toast.

“Yup, he said he was willing to take care of it since he was the cause of it, or at least that’s what he said…”

Eric felt somewhat confused over the concept. Alastor fixing Eric’s mess. A minor issue but still, why would he do that for him? Eric shook it off, trying not to overanalyze the predicament.

“So when will Niffty be ready to start?”

Before Charlie could respond, the doors opened wide to reveal Niffty dragging a rolling mop bucket with a mop inside and a vacuum with an extension cord attached. She looked at Eric with enough determination to make a drill instructor look like a girl scout.

“Alright newbie, time to get the lead out,” said Niffty with vigor, “We've got to get some scrubbing done in the ballroom. Move out!”

“Whoa, calm down there Niff--”

“ I SAID MOVE IT OR LOSE IT!”

"I'll clean up your mess, Eric," said Charlie as she patted his back gently.

Eric shrugged as he followed Niffty down the hallway. Niffty said nothing as she drug her vacuum around while Eric carried the mop and bucket carefully during their trip. As they moved further down, Eric couldn't help but feel a slight chill down the back of his neck. He turned around to find nothing, noticing one of the wall lamps flickering slightly. He ignored it and continued to follow Niffty. Soon their travel was over as Eric noticed a set of double doors with large round stained glass windows with red apples on the front. Niffty opened the left door while Eric pushed open the right door, taking in the view from inside.

The ballroom looked fairly old but hardly seemed like it had any damage of any sort, aside from a couple cobwebs and dust. The walls had dark wallpaper and mirror pieces placed in section by section, with fancy wall mounted lights on each other section of walls. On the ceiling were three sets of expensive-looking chandeliers hanging above each section of the ballroom. The room was full of large round tables with wooden chairs surrounding each set. The furniture looked like they were in stable condition. The floor was coated in carpeting similar to the hallway and lobby. Dead center of the room was a large dance floor, all wooden. It hardly had any scuffs or chipping or any sort of damage. It was large enough for roughly eight dozen people to dance on. From the far end of the room was a small stage that rose up roughly two feet from the floor. Chairs and stands were scattered all over the stage, cobwebs accumulated all over each piece. From the far right of the room was a small bay window that had a kitchen shown from the other side with two sets of double doors on each side of the window. He could see a small light from inside and had noticed it was still in modest condition compared to the ballroom itself. Despite how it looked, Eric was impressed with the ballroom itself.

“Pretty snazzy place,” he said as he brought the mop and bucket towards the dance floor.

“Snazzy yet filthy,” exclaimed Niffty as she brought the extension cord to the nearest wall socket.

Eric shrugged off her comment and prepped his mop by sloshing it around inside the bucket full of sudsy cleaning solutions. After a while, he plopped the mop onto the wooden surface and slowly wiped away the dust and dirt on top. As he took his time and mopped the dance floor, he noticed Niffty frantically vacuuming the carpeting like it was on fire. Even with her eccentricity, the vacuum was running with a near-quiet sound, practically opposite of regular vacuums.

Time flew by quickly as the two worked hard in the ballroom. Eric had finished swabbing the dance floor but saw Niffty still going through roughly half of the ballroom itself. Work seemed to be stressing her out due to her OCD nature. Seemed a bit fruitless to try anything to calm her down, until an idea popped into Eric’s head.

"Niffty, I'll be right back," he said as he placed the mop and bucket carefully off the side.

"I just need to grab some things from my room."

"Take your time," replied Niffty as she finished one half of the ballroom.

Eric walked out of the ballroom as Niffty ran rampant with the vacuum, trying to suck up all of the unseen dirt and dander within the floors.

"I WILL REACH INTO YOUR LIFELESS BODY AND RIP OUT YOUR FILTHY SOUL!"

* * *

Eric came out of the bathroom after taking a moment to urinate, giving him a little relief from the work. He walked over to the bed and pulled out his iPod and Bluetooth speaker. He saw his music player still had plenty of battery life and walked out with both items in his hands. As he walked down the hall, he heard a faint sound of a technical glitch. He placed his iPod and speaker in his right arm while digging into his left pocket for his phone. He looked to see the home screen was glitching more than usual since his arrival. His background of a Bengal tiger was losing focus and seemed to be fading in and out. Not taking any chances, he held the power button to fully shut it off and continued his way back to the ballroom.

As he walked back inside the ballroom, he noticed Niffty sitting by one of the tables. She was panting as if she ran a marathon and back, wiping sweat off of her little forehead.

"Jeez, you okay Niffty," asked Eric as he approached her.

"I had… an issue with… the rug," she said through small huffs, "Just need… a little break…"

"Maybe a little music will calm you down a little."

Eric held the power button on his Bluetooth speaker and watched for the blue light to glow as the speaker made small beeps indicating it was on and connected. He looked through the screen of his iPod and saw the Bluetooth logo showing right next to the battery. He then skimmed and scoured through his list of songs.

"Just need to find something relaxing…"

"Nah, just something fun and upbeat is alright."

Eric nodded in reply and found a song that he hoped was a good choice. Once he pressed play, the song began to the sound of snapping fingers.

_ Pretty little angel eyes _

_ Pretty little angel eyes _

_ Pretty little angel, pretty little angel _

_ Pretty little, pretty little, pretty little angel _

Niffty’s singular eye widened in surprise and happiness. She shimmied and shook in her seat, snapping her fingers to the beat as she hummed along with the song. Eric placed the speaker and iPod on the table as the music played. He took the chance and began to dance a little to the music.

_ Angel eyes, I really love you so _

_ Angel eyes, I'll never let you go _

_ Because I love you, my darlin' angel eyes _

Eric began to hum along with Niffty but felt the need to sing. He felt like he could really sing, really belt out in high spirits.

Eric:

Angel eyes, you are so good to me

And when I'm in your arms you be so heavenly

You know I love you, my darlin' angel eyes

Niffty smiled as Eric sang along to the song. He may not be as good as the original artist but it was all for fun in the long run.

Eric:

I know you were sent from Heaven above

To fill my life with your wonderful love

I know we'll be happy for eternity

'Cause I know

That our love is really real

From outside the ballroom and in the hallway, Alastor watched from afar to see the silly singing and dancing from the young human alongside his own little cohort all while listening to music play. It was yet another piece he was never fond of, but he smiled at the sight of the two getting along as the music played. Even Eric’s singing was decent to him. He decided to leave them be and let them have their fun as he made his way down the hall, leaving Eric and Niffty to enjoy their fun together.

_ Pretty little angel eyes _

_ Pretty little angel eyes _

_ Pretty little angel, pretty little angel _

_ Pretty little, pretty little, pretty little angel _

Niffty stood out of her seat and grabbed onto Eric’s hands gently while placing her tiny feet atop of his own feet, as he led the dance between themselves. They let loose as the song played through the instrumental piece, swinging through the saxophone solo. Niffty hopped off of his feet as the singing continued, as the two still held hands in their dance.

_ Angel eyes, I really love you so _

_ Angel eyes, I'll never let you go _

_ Because I love you _

_ My darlin' angel eyes _

The singing and music began to fade out, as Niffty sat back in her chair while Eric sat next to her. Both felt exhausted from their raucous and rambunctious romp.

"That was fun," giggled Niffty, "I haven't had this much fun for a while."

"What, my song and dance routine last night didn't count," asked Eric comically.

"No no, I meant I haven't danced or had any kind of fun like that for ages!"

"Too much time focused on cleaning?"

"Well yes, I do put in a lot of time cleaning and a little cooking too. I take a little spare time to listen to some music like that, but it's been a long time since I've done that."

"Jesus, you must put in so much work. Don't you ever take a break or any type of vacation?"

Niffty simply shrugged her shoulders while gently kicking her legs about in her seat.

"I don't mind cleaning. Helps me keep my mind off of a lot of things.”

“What about yoga or meditation?”

Niffty just shook her head furiously.

“No time for that. And speaking of time, let’s try to finish up!”

Niffty hopped out of her chair and took to the vacuum once more. Eric was surprised to see this small demon running around like a kid on a sugar rush.

_ She must have some good coffee to drink… _

As Niffty resumed her vacuuming, Eric took the mop and bucket and walked to the stage to finish his task. As he walked over, he whipped his iPod out and looked for another song to play. As he put his iPod away and pulled out the mop, the sound of an electric guitar twang struck followed by a man roaring like a wild animal. The sound made Niffty jump slightly as she nearly dropped the vacuum. But once she heard it coming from the speaker, she continued her vacuuming, letting out a small chuckle. Eric, meanwhile, took to mopping the stage floor to the beat of the song playing.

_ In the middle of the night when the full moon rise _

_ I got a funny kind of feelin' comin' in my eyes _

As the music played, Eric swung his head around slightly to the song as he mopped.

_ Well, my hair gets long and my eyes turn blue _

_ I got long hair growin' on my fingers too _

He raised his mop up in the air and swung it around slightly, little drops of the solution dripped on his shoes and the stage.

_ I'm the wolfman, I'm the wolfman baby _

_ And if you see me on the prowl _

_ Watch it when you hear me growl! _

Eric continued to mop, but soon was doing more dancing than mopping. He dug his toes onto the dance floor while holding the mop to keep his balance.

_ Well, I jump in my car and I drive down the street _

_ I got long claws on my hands and feet _

_ I just ride around a-howlin' 'neath the moon above _

_ Tonight I'm comin' after your sweet love _

Eric imitated the snarls as he shook the mop against the floor. Little did he know that Niffty finished vacuuming and was watching Eric's antics.

_ I'm the wolfman, I'm the wolfman baby _

_ And if you see me on the prowl _

_ Watch it when you hear me growl! _

Eric continued his little dance moves on the small stage, all while Niffty stood back to enjoy his little moment. She noticed a figure standing in the doorway and ushered him to enter. Alastor walked in, staring bewildered at Eric’s dance.

_ Well, I climb tall buildings, I blow down trees _

_ I chase little bears and I sting the bees _

_ Well, baby don't you scream when I hold you tight _

_ I'm gonna win your love tonight _

Eric acted out the snarls as Niffty and Alastor stood by watching in amusement.

_ Wolfman, I'm the wolfman baby _

_ If you see me on the prowl _

_ Watch it when you hear me growl! _

Eric finished mopping the far corner of the stage while giving off another shimmy and a shake, while imitating the growls and snarls in a more exaggerated fashion.

_ Watch it when I'm on the prowl _

_ Watch it if you hear me growl! _

As Eric spun around with another growl imitation, he finally noticed the captive audience that was Niffty and Alastor standing before him. He stepped away from the stage and placed the mop back in the bucket, then pulled out his iPod to stop the music. His face was flushed red as the two gave their applause.

“Very charming, my boy,” said Alastor exuberantly, “You certainly are a wonderful entertainer even when you’re not singing!”

Eric said nothing as he sat at a nearby table and placed his iPod next to him, looking down in embarrassment. Alastor kept his stare on Eric as Niffty placed the vacuum off to the side and gently dusted herself off.

“I think we could use a little lunch break,” she said as she walked towards the doors, “It’s almost noon anyway.”

With that, Niffty dashed out almost like a bolt of lightning, leaving Alastor and Eric alone in the ballroom. Alastor slowly approached Eric, who had looked up as he approached.

“If you’re expecting an apology, you can fucking forget about it,” said Eric with venom in his voice.

"I don't expect one," replied Alastor, "If anything, I owe you an apology."

Eric raised an eyebrow in response.

"My shadows and I were fully responsible for your nightmares since your time here in this hotel. But I do agree that we went too far with your latest dream. And after your apology over insulting my mother, it didn't seem right for what we had done to you."

Eric's face was fully bewildered over Alastor's response. It was hard to believe someone as sick and twisted as Alastor could ever apologize to him.

"And I do believe the farce response you gave me earlier this morning was more than enough to even the odds, wouldn't you agree?"

Eric nodded slowly, feeling somewhat uneasy over the whole situation.

"In fact, I promise that neither I nor my shadows will ever haunt you or your subconscious anymore. If that ever changes, you have my full permission to retaliate any way you see fit. Sound fair?"

Alastor held his hand out towards Eric, who looked at it uneasily. He felt reluctant to trust Alastor's own promise, but it would be much better to have some proper rest without having to endure his mind games. With that, Eric reciprocated with a firm handshake. As he shook his hand however, he felt a strange sensation from his palm and through his arm. As Alastor released his grip, the feeling went away.

_ What the hell was that? _

"Good… Now, I hope you understand that I let you off easy with that one… But if you ever lay a finger on me or try anything like that without my permission…"

Alastor's eyes began to turn into radio dials as the sounds of static filled the room.

" **I will skin you alive slowly… all the way down to your foreskin and then some…** "

Eric's heart pounded like a drum beating endlessly and furiously. He tried to keep a straight face but felt like he was a hair away from death. But soon the static faded and Alastor's eyes reverted back to normal.

"Now then, I must be off!"

Alastor spun around to the doors, as Eric snapped out of his fear and looked over at the Radio Demon.

"Where are you going," he asked.

"For a walk," replied Alastor, "Charlotte and Vagatha won't need my assistance today so I'll be enjoying a stroll through the city. Hope all goes well with the work!"

With one short wave of his hand, Alastor left the room as the doors shut behind him. Eric sat in the room, enjoying the silence and vacancy he had after dealing with Alastor's chicanery. But barely a minute went by before feeling somewhat different about his situation.

His moment of peace felt boring.

Tedious.

Dull.

Eric felt like he was truly alone. He sat at the table with his hand on his face, feeling tired and run down. He hummed a little ditty while trying to keep his eyes open. But between the work he put into mopping, his little dance work, and the trouble he had sleeping last night, it was a battle he couldn't win. His eyes eventually shut and he rested on the table. As he slept, Eric’s iPod began to act up. The screen was fizzling and losing focus. Sights of technical interference were shown, as a creepy face appeared on the screen with red eyes and a sharp toothy grin, chuckling deeply. It glanced around through the limited vision it had facing up towards the ceiling.

“Hello? Anybody home?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The songs used are "Pretty Little Angel Eyes" by Curtis Lee and "I'm The Wolfman" by Round Robin.


	10. Stagehands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A near encounter with a certain television demon doesn't stop Eric and Niffty from doing their work, but a bit of reminiscing brings up a bad piece of Eric's own past...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a word of warning, things will get a little dark and maybe unsettling to certain people.

### Chapter 10 - Stagehand

Eric napped away on the table, faintly snoring away. Unbeknownst to him, his iPod was occupied by a demon with red eyes and sharp teeth. However, it could hardly see where it was or even see Eric for that matter.

"Hey! Anyone there?"

Eric let out a loud snort as he slept.

"I know you're there… I can hear you breathing…"

Eric began to flinch as he slept, as his hand knocked his iPod to the floor. The screen fell face down on the floor, blocking out the demon's sight.

"WHAT THE FUCK?! WHAT HAPPENED?! FLIP ME OVER, YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE! I KNOW YOU CAN HEAR ME!"

Eric continuously flinched as he slept, enduring a rather peculiar dream…

* * *

Eric found himself looking at nothing but darkness. He couldn't move or speak. He wanted to move or scream, call for help, but he could hardly do anything. It was like he wasn't even there. But soon his vision began to stir. Unusual sights began to show from within the darkness.

The tall menacing figure that was Valentino had towered over Eric's point of view as he held Angel in a tight grip. His fangs were exposed in a menacing grin as his gold tooth gleamed.

This vision faded as he heard the sound of a wicked cackle. He then saw his vision return in the form of a strange figure in black wearing a pinstripe suit, a top hat with a large eye and a set of teeth, all while looking similar to that of a snake or a cobra.

This vision would fade into something more vibrant. A new figure approached wearing a red outfit that seemed to have tears in it, with long pink hair and one eye. It held what looked like red cartoon bombs in her hands.

This vision would fade away suddenly as Eric found himself in what looked like a car, holding a cloth in his hands. He looked over to see what looked like a woman, but he could hardly see her face or even her outfit. All he could see were her eyes and large hairstyle. But he also caught a glimpse of a beautiful smile that gave out a small giggle.

This vision would dissolve like a cloud of smoke, as the friendly giggle would change into a familiar cackle through the sounds of radio static. Eric's vision would soon be occupied by the sight of Alastor, holding his microphone in his left hand and holding out his right hand towards him. His smile looked nearly nefarious as he glared menacingly towards Eric. Then his right hand began to glow in a bright green color. Eric could feel an immense and unnatural presence as the color grew fierce and the power emanated from Alastor's hand. His heart beating fast as he felt a powerful gust of wind circulating around him. The sounds of evil laughter filled the darkness, not from Alastor but from someone else. Someone like him… All while Alastor stood there smiling.

* * *

"AHH!"

Eric snapped out of his nap, looking around the ballroom as if he was being watched. But he found himself to be the only one around.

"I'm getting really sick and tired of being ignored here!"

Eric pulled a double-take as he heard a voice that sounded close but still saw no one around. It spoke almost as if it came from a bad television set. He noticed his iPod was not on the table. He looked around and saw it on the ground face down. He also noticed faint lights emitting from the screen, as blues and reds were flashing aggressively.

"Don't think I won't find you… You can't hide from me… NO ONE HIDES FROM VOX!"

The name sent a small chill down Eric's back, knowing full well of who he is. He thought back to his dream prior, remembering the creepy figure with the TV screen for a head. If he knew Eric was here or even caught a glimpse of him… game over…

"WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?! WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?!"

Without hesitation, Eric grabbed his iPod and kept the screen pointed towards the wall away from him, making sure the camera lens in the back was covered by his palm.

"What the-- Is someone there? ANSWER ME!"

Trying not to speak or make a noise, Eric held the power button on his iPod, waiting to shut it off.

"What the fuck are you doi-- Wait, what? What does that sa-- POWER OFF?!"

Eric tilted the screen slightly and noticed the slider button. Without hesitation, he flicked the switch to shut it off.

"YOU CAN'T HIDE FROM ME! I WILL FIND YOU, YOU MOTHERLESS FU--"

The voice was soon silenced as the iPod was fully shut down. He turned the device around slowly to see the screen, then sighed in relief to see it was off.

"Too fucking close…"

He sat back down in his seat and placed his iPod down on the table. He then dug out his phone and placed it down next to it. A few feet away, he saw his Bluetooth speaker on another table. He walked over to grab it, noticing the blue light blinking due to being disconnected from the iPod. As Eric was about to grab it, the blinking stopped and the light began to glow a little brighter. Eric began to feel concerned. Then the light changed from blue to red, glowing brighter. Sounds of static filled the room for a little while until it was silent and a familiar voice began to speak.

"You think you can get away from me so easily? Think again, motherfucker…"

Eric began to sweat, feeling completely uneasy and scared.

"I can control every piece of modern technology… Even when it comes to outdated technology like yours… I hope you can hear me, whoever the fuck you are because I will show you NOT TO FUCK WITH ME!"

Eric grabbed the speaker and held the power button, as the sounds of static and electricity intensified.

" **I** … **AM** … **_VOX!!!_ **"

The voice was silenced as the light was turned off and the speaker tuned out in a small chime. He sat in the chair and looked at his own pieces of technology, feeling mentally exhausted from the whole ordeal that nearly transpired.

“What the fuck am I gonna do now,” he said as he massaged his temples.

* * *

Vox sat in his computer chair, fixing the reception of his own head as his face was muddled with a snowy screen and bad audio. With a slight smack against his frame, his face was shown on the screen. His teeth writhing with anger as he slammed his fists on his desk.

“Slippery fucker thought he could get away from me,” he murmured as he grabbed a bottle of Jack Daniels off the side and poured some into a small glass.

“I always keep tabs on the wayward souls in this shithole… And no one uses outdated technology without me knowing about it! It’s Voxtech or no tech, end of fucking story!”

He looked at the bottle to see it only gave out a few small drops of alcohol in his glass, barely filling up the bottom. With his rage mounted, he threw the bottle across the room as it hit the door and shattered to pieces. He sat by his desk and rubbed his forehead of a screen in misery. As he mumbled and murmured to himself, the door opened and a set of high-heeled shoes walked in with ferocity. It stepped on the small shards of glass-like it was nothing as the crack and crunch of each broken piece were rendered into smaller pieces, as the figure stood before Vox’s desk. He looked up and saw Valentino standing over him with a look that would turn the weakest sinner to stone. He wore a white shirt and a black vest, his lower hands were planted on the desk while his upper left hand held a cigarette and the right hand held a smartphone.

“Do you mind keepin’ your fuckin’ temper tantrums to a minimum while I’m on the fuckin’ phone,” bellowed Valentino.

Vox barely flinched or reacted to Valentino’s demand as he took his cup and drank up what little alcohol he had.

“Now what’s gotten your panties in a twist?”

“I caught some fucker’s frequency through their outdated technology instead of my brand of technology,” replied Vox as he placed the cup on the desk.

“...so?”

“SO… he’s not using MY own brand of technology. If more newcomers keep their old shit, like a certain deer fucker we know... I lose my steady income!”

“Ohh, boo-fuckin’-hoo…”

“You don’t understand,” yelled Vox as he stood up from his seat, “This fucker’s been using technology from the living world, like shit that he shouldn’t even have on him. It’s either he managed to bring it in from the living world or…”

“Or…?”

“Or he may not be dead at all…”

The two overlords shared a moment of silence before Valentino snickered slightly then belted out with laughter. Vox stared back at him with a snarl on his screen, as he pulled out a vape pen and stuck it in the side of his frame.

“It could happen…”

Valentino walked out of the room with his phone in hand, calming his laughter. Vox took a puff of electronic smoke as he pressed a button from his frame, as blurred images of the last location were being viewed as a slideshow. Then the images were grouped together in what looked like a folder and sent into a cloud app. His screen made a small ‘ding’ as it had been uploaded successfully.

“I’ll have to look further into this…”

Valentino walked back into his office as he let out a few chortles and chuckles, looking at his phone in the process. He looked up and saw a familiar figure walk into his office, as the figure’s mismatched eyes stared back at the nefarious pimp with an uneasy look. Valentino strode up to him slowly, his goofy grin forming into a sinister smile.

“Hello Angel Cakes…”

Indeed, Angel stood by the door and flinched slightly as he felt the strong grip of the pimp’s hand on his arm. He then saw Valentino cusping his cheek with his other hand, looking into his eyes through the heart-shaped glasses.

“Did you bring Daddy his _greens_?”

* * *

Eric sat in his chair as he looked on at his own items on the table. His phone, his iPod, his speaker, all of these items were not safe to use now that a certain overlord could cause interference and spy on him worse than any hacker ever could. He shuddered to think about what were to happen if they saw him in the hotel. Could the others even protect him? Could Alastor protect him at all? Would he be strong enough to stop someone like Vox? Could _any_ overlord overthrow the likes of Alastor?

“LUNCH TIME!”

“AAAHH!!!”

>

Eric nearly jolted out of his seat as Niffty approached him with a plate of sandwiches and a tall glass of soda.

“I made some deli sandwiches for us,” she said gleefully, “chicken sandwiches with lettuce, onions, oil, and a little mayo!”

Niffty placed the sub sandwich in front of Eric along with a glass of soda next to it. Niffty sat next to Eric with a sandwich that looked similar to his but was cut in half and had a glass of water as a drink. Eric took a small bite as he watched Niffty take in a large bite of her small sandwich. It was enough to take out one-third of her meal. She chewed her mouthful in a cheery way while Eric took another small bite. Niffty took notice of Eric’s timid eating, staring in his eyes as he looked nervous or scared.

“You okay Eric,” she asked after swallowing her mouthful of food.

“Y-yeah… I’m alright…”

Eric took another small bite then took a sip of his coke. As he placed the glass on the table, he felt Niffty's tiny hand on his arm. She looked up at him with her one eye, a look of concern on her face.

"Did something happen," she asked.

Eric looked away for a short moment, taking a deep breath and letting out a faint sigh.

"What do you know about Vox," he asked silently.

Niffty let out a big gasp, her other hand on her face, her eye widened with fear.

"He found you?!"

"NO NO," Eric replied hastily, "No, he didn't see me… but he did come through my iPod and speaker…"

The two looked over at the three devices set dead center on the table. Eric took another small bite of his sandwich while Niffty took one last large bite of her sandwich.

“Seems no matter what happens,” Eric began through a small mouthful, “I’m just going to find myself in more trouble than I can handle… I’m not even safe here…”

Eric took another small bite and chewed slowly as he sat in a bit of depression. He reached for his drink and took a small sip before sitting back in his chair, lounging like a lump. Niffty took the initiative and held his arm gently with her small hand. He looked at her and saw a gentle smile.

“I’m sure we’ll do our best to help you,” she said, “I’m sure even Alastor would do his best to help you.”

Eric let out a small laugh, then took another two bites to finish off his sandwich. He chuckled through his mouthful of food and then took one more sip of soda.

“Forgive me if I feel completely doubtful of your optimism,” he said as he wiped his mouth, “especially when it comes to Alastor of all demons…”

Niffty’s smile diminished as Eric sat there with his grin slowly fading back to a frown. He took one more sip of his drink, the aggravation building up inside.

“Bad enough I have to be around him with his shit-heel shenanigans… I gotta watch my back for anyone spying on me through my own technology… What’s next, a group of roaches that can turn demons into zombies with just one bite?”

Eric chugged his soda down as some of it slipped down the sides of his mouth. As the glass was finally empty, he took it and slammed it on the table. His aggravation turned to frustration.

"At this point, I don't think I'll ever be able to go home…"

"Don't say that!"

Eric turned to see Niffty holding his left arm with both hands gently yet firmly. The look in her eye was out of sadness but at the same time hope.

"I'm sure we'll find a way to send you back home," she replied, "It'll take time, but I'm sure it will be worth the wait."

Eric gave a faint grin, appreciating Niffty's attempt to cheer him up. He patted her tiny hands gently with his right hand.

"Thanks Niffty…"

Niffty took one last drink of her water and hopped off of her seat. Eric moved out of his seat and stood up, looking down at his devices on the table.

“Well, let’s get to the theater and see what the damage is,” said Niffty as she grabbed her vacuum and extension cord.

Eric nodded in reply and walked to grab his mop and bucket, following Niffty as they left the ballroom. As the doors closed behind Eric, a shadow from the door slid all over the floor and made its way towards the table the two sat at earlier. The shadow formed into a silhouette of Alastor and proceeded to grab Eric’s devices. It hid them within its shadowy torso, zipped through the floor once more, and out of the ballroom with an echoing giggle.

* * *

Eric and Niffty walked further down the hall until they came across another set of double doors. This time, there was a large sign above the door that said “THEATER” in bold letters. Niffty pushed the doors open as Eric followed suit, taking in the atmosphere and size of the new location set before him. The theater was more like a large auditorium that rivaled the likes of Broadway, the Manhattan Center, or the Walnut Street Theater. He could see seating arrangements and balconies that led up to four levels toward the ceiling. Dead center of the ceiling was a large chandelier shaped like a pentagram but had bright yellow lights. Surrounding the lights was a grim piece of artwork that resembled Lucifer and Lillith as they bore a large set of wings, molted feathers off the back of Lucifer and large black bat wings off the back of Lillith, all as they posed in a style similar to that of ‘The Hand of God’.

Much like the ballroom, Eric noticed the theater was in decent condition aside from cobwebs and dust all over the place. He walked up to the stage and saw rusted dollies, microphone stands, and a white stool strewn about. He placed the mop bucket off the side of the stairs and walked up to move the objects out. He started with the large dollie, which squeaked from all of the rust it accumulated while being pushed towards a set of doors leading towards the backstage area. He then grabbed the mic stand and stool and walked them over towards the opposite side. As he went to grab his bucket, he saw Niffty ferociously vacuuming the floors through each row of seats on the ground level. He looked up to see how much work she had ahead of her and felt concerned over how overworked she could end up over all of this.

“Hey Niffty,” said Eric, “You sure you’re gonna be okay with all of this work?”

“Not a problem, Eric,” replied Niffty through her work, “I’ve done this type of work before!”

Feeling hesitant, Eric proceeded to carry his mop bucket up the steps and onto the stage. He dunked and swirled his mop around while watching the erratic nature of Niffty’s cleaning cavalcade. He took out his mop and began swabbing every spot of the stage he could get to, witnessing a dramatic difference from the heavy amount of dust on the floor being cleaned away from the mop solution. The stage floor seemed dirtier than the stage from the ballroom. He couldn’t help but feel like the stage was shining brighter than the chandelier as he kept mopping the stage all over. It was an arduous task but he had half of the stage cleaned off, as he looked to see he had enough solution to finish the other half. It was almost surprising how much he used to begin with and how he still had enough for the rest.

Hours passed as Eric had finally finished mopping the stage floor, seeing it glisten from the lights around the auditorium. He looked over to the seats to try and find Niffty but had trouble trying to find her. He heard the vacuum whirring but it sounded so far away. Could she be further back? Somewhere backstage?

“HI ERIC!”

Eric looked up and saw Niffty on the highest balcony on the right side. He could see the small blot of her red hair but could hardly see her face, let alone her tiny arms waving vigorously from her spot.

“How the hell did you get all the way up there,” asked Eric as he yelled up high.

“You’d be surprised how many extension cords I keep in this place!”

Eric let that strange response sink in for a little while before we stepped down with his mop and bucket and sat in one of the seats in front of the stage.

“The stage looks great, Eric!”

“AAAHH!”

Eric jumped out of his seat slightly as he saw Niffty roughly five feet away from him with her vacuum and a roll of extension cord behind her.

“How the hell… You were all the way… And I was down… HOW?!?!”

Niffty just giggled over Eric’s flummox, as she took a seat right next to him.

“It’s just something I’m used to doing,” she replied, “I’ve always been good with cleaning even at my quick pace.”

Eric chuckled under his breath at Niffty’s reply.

“You seem to do well with cleaning yourself. You’d make your mama proud!”

His mother…

Out of everything he hardly remembers, his mother’s face and voice still stuck with him through all of these years. Her dark hair, her warm smile, her comforting embrace. He missed her all the years since her death…

The familiar sounds of a body falling and collapsing with a sickening crunch brought back the worst experience he ever had to witness. The sights and sounds haunting his memories. A small tear ran down his cheek unbeknownst to him.

“Eric?”

He pulled out of his trance and wiped his eyes fiercely, trying to avoid his emotions overtaking his predicament.

“Maybe we should call it a day,” he said erratically, “Let’s get the stuff and go--”

He felt a firm hand on his arm, as he saw Niffty staring at him with great concern once more.

“Please tell me what’s wrong Eric,” she said in a gentle tone.

Eric lowered in his seat, letting out a huge sigh.

“It’s a memory I’ve tried to repress for so long but it never leaves… It happened so long ago…”

Eric felt another tear run down his face.

“It was roughly three days before my ninth birthday…”

* * *

Eric rested in his bed despite the noise of rain and thunder. Each thunderclap occurred miles away from his vicinity, not disturbing his slumber. However, the sounds of his father and mother shouting at each other was what interrupted his sleep. He stood up and walked towards his door, slowly opening it to see his parents down the far end of the hallway, arguing like they always do. But this argument seemed to be different than any other. This argument got them screaming and shrieking at each other that felt completely uncomfortable. His curiosity got the better of him as he made his way out of his room and towards the hallway. As he crept down the hall quietly, he could hear the shouts getting louder but could hardly hear what they were saying. He crept closer until he got near the edge of the frame, carefully peeking from the corner to see what was going on. There he could see and hear his parents having a major argument.

“You really think you wouldn’t think I’d find out about this,” yelled his father to his mother, “You putting yourself out there to the whole fucking neighborhood?”

“You’d think I’d let you know about my real business,” she replied, “Especially considering how well you handle our savings on liquor and guns, like we really need more of that shit!”

“What I do with my money is my business and my business alone!”

“YOUR money?! That’s our life savings, for Christ’s sake! How are we going to put Eric into college if you keep spending it all on shit we don’t need?!”

“That little failed abortion won’t need college! Not like he’s gonna amount to anything as an adult!”

“Oh that’s great fucking parenting there, you miserable fucking drunkard! God forbid he ends up just as useless as you are!”

“Don’t fucking push me, you miserable cunt…”

“Oh because you have such a great resume by working for three weeks at a supermarket before getting fired for stealing a chuck roast.”

“I’m fucking warning you…”

“Or how about your latest firing at my brother’s construction company, where you thought it would be a great idea to SMOKE MARIJUANA ON THE JOB!”

“You fucking whore…”

“Ohh and speaking of whores, how’s Vanessa doing? You know, Ms. Blowjob-Lips who you lied about when you said you broke up with her last year when she took a picture of you two together JUST LAST WEEK?!”

Before Eric’s mother could even finish, Eric’s father slapped her hard across her face, then grabbed her by the throat with both hands and strangled her, shaking her around in his tight grip.

“You fucking blabbermouth cunt! TRY TALKING OUT OF THIS ONE!”

She tried retaliating by kicking her feet against his legs but it was to no avail. He carried her around and proceeded to throw her down to the floor. However, he inadvertently threw her towards the basement door, which caused her to fall down the stairs. Eric could hardly see what was going on but he could hear her grunts and cries of pain but were suddenly silenced by the sound of a big thud and a loud crack. His father looked down from the top of the steps and let out a heavy sigh. No tears, no gasp of disbelief, no look of shock or distraught. He only let out a deep sigh, then walked into the kitchen. Eric slowly walked over towards the basement and looked down.

At the floor of the basement lay the lifeless body of Eric’s mother, her neck in an angle that was completely out of place and her forehead cracked open and bleeding profusely. The sight of his mother lying dead on the floor greatly upset Eric but he hardly let out a scream or a cry. He could hardly believe she was dead. He wouldn’t believe it. He didn’t want to believe it. But the blood basically told him otherwise.

“Mom…?”

The silence was deafening as Eric stood before his mother’s lifeless body. He gently shook her as his tears began to fall on top of her body. As he shook her more, he saw her face and nearly went pale. Her eyes were wide open in a look of shock, blood covering her face. His lips began to quiver and he silently cried on top of her chest, holding her hand gently.

“Don’t leave me, mom… Please… Don’t leave me…”

His sobs nearly echoed within the basement, as his head was buried in her chest and cried his little heart out. It was like a horrible nightmare that he could never wake up from. He hardly moved from that spot. He didn’t want to leave her. He didn’t want to lose her. But it was all too late…

* * *

Niffty sat in shock and awe as Eric paused from his story. He pulled out his pack of cigarettes and placed one on his lips while pulling out his lighter to light it. He offered the pack to Niffty but she gently declined with a shake of her head. He took in a huff and let out a large puff of smoke.

“Ever since then, I resented my bastard father for the longest time,” said Eric as he held his cigarette, “I wanted to leave, oh how I wanted to get away from that cocksucker… But I couldn’t… He covered up the death when my back was turned and I couldn’t say anything to the cops. Even if I wanted to, he’d beat the shit out of me and threatened to shoot me if I said or did anything… I was basically his housemaid after that…”

Eric took another smoke, inhaling the nicotine and tobacco like his life was on the line.

“Year after year, I’d come home from school and I did shit for him… vacuuming, scrubbing, lawnwork, snow shoveling, car cleaning, whatever he wouldn’t do I did for him… No allowances or anything financial. ‘Get a fucking job if you wanna get paid’, he said… Even as I got older I could hardly drive anywhere… I was nineteen when I finally got my driver’s license… Took some convincing, mostly the promise of beer runs…”

Eric took one last long huff and puff, then held the cigarette butt in his hand and clenched it into his fist, feeling the pain of the smoke burn his palm slightly.

“He’s burned me so many times I can hardly feel this kind of pain… I felt so numb and cold since that night…”

He placed the crumpled cigarette butt onto the armrest away from him and Niffty, making sure not to make a mess for her sake.

“But I got him back…”

“What did you do,” asked Niffty inquisitively.

“I turned a hunter into a trophy…”

* * *

It was a dark and stormy night. The winds were howling and the thunder rocked the heavens as the lighting struck several times. Despite the terrible weather outside, inside was less of a nuisance. Years passed and the home of the Severino residence had gone from bad to worse. Torn fabric on furniture, scuffed flooring, a few cracked windows, and garbage piled up all around the recliner of Mr. Severino himself. He slept in it as he held a beer in one hand and crumbs of food tattered his beard. In his drunken slumber, he dropped his beer onto the floor as his hand was now dangling off the side. During his sleep, he hardly heard the sound of someone approaching him. Indeed, a certain seventeen-year-old walked towards the slumbering shitstain that was his own father, holding a double-barrel shotgun while wearing blue rubber gloves. He brought the gun close to his father’s mouth, who hardly felt in his intoxicated slumber.

“Dad…”

There was no response, just more snoring.

“Dad… Wake up Dad…”

Eric saw as his father slowly stir, rubbing his eyes gently and letting out a big yawn. His yawn was interrupted by a large piece of metal shoved into his mouth, nearly gagging from the force.

“Who’s the pussy now?”

**> >BANG!<<**

Eric witnessed firsthand the gory sight of his father’s brains and skull matter scattered all over the wall and floor. The sounds of wind and thunder had seemed to drown out the gunfire in his favor. Holding the shotgun in his hand, he placed it within his father’s hands and made sure to keep the force of the grip tight as his dead hands could, squeezing his right fingers close to the twin triggers. He let loose of his grip on the gun and corpse as gravity let his limbs fall and the shotgun drop with a heavy thud. He walked all around and carefully made his way around the mess, avoiding stepping on any drop of blood surrounding him. He stepped into his room and sat on his bed, barely phased by the crime he committed. He took his gloves off and shoved them deep into his trash can, then rested onto his bed. His eyes slowly closed as he felt no emotion for his action, drifting off through the sounds of wind and rain.

His mind was hardly safe or sane during the night. The sounds of his father yelling and cursing at him echoed in his mind. Each insult wrapped his brain like barbed wire. The sounds of his mother stumbling and falling to her death were on a constant loop in his mind, intertwining with his father’s voice. The sounds of a belt snap and a strong punch echoed fiercely in his mind. Each sound echoed as they grew louder, turning into a complete mess that almost felt deafening as it felt devastating.

_“WHERE’S MY FUCKING BEER, YOU LITTLE SHIT-STAIN?!”_

The sound of his father’s bellowing call brought Eric out of his rest and fully awake with fear. He pulled himself out of bed and staggered out of his room in a panic.

“I-I-I’m sorry dad, I must’ve over--”

He was interrupted by the grisly sight before him. On the recliner sat his father with his head fully decimated. He noticed a double-barrel shotgun resting a foot away from his recliner, the muzzle coated in a small amount of blood. The sight was almost too real to comprehend. He barely said a word, only let out gasps of disbelief. He eventually let out a strange sound of laughter, which sounded more like he was in pain than he was happy. Tears flooded his eyes as he continued to let his emotions out, as crude and confusing as it was.

“You bastard… Ha ha ha ha ha… You bit the big one, didn’t you? Bit more off than you could chew! HAHAHAHAHAHA!”

The laughter proceeded as he fell onto the floor, curling into a little ball. The tears continued to flood as his laughter shifted into sobs despite the smile on his face. He sat there on the floor as he was in his emotional turmoil, a few feet away from his father’s corpse.

* * *

Niffty watched with concern as Eric sat in his chair laughing almost as badly as he did in his past, his eyes glistening with tears. He sat back and finally relaxed, his laughter subsiding while wiping his tears away.

“After a call to the cops, they looked over everything before they came to the conclusion of suicide,” he said as he kept his composure, “After that, I was sent over to live with my uncle from my mother’s side of the family. He helped me get into a community college and eventually the construction job. I hardly looked back on that until today and since then I had no regrets for what I did. He ruined my life and took my mother’s life without any remorse.”

“I’m… I’m sorry you had to go through all of that Eric,” said Niffty in a somber tone.

Eric could only shrug as he stood up from his seat and went for the mop and bucket.

“The past is the past,” he replied nonchalantly, “Ain’t like I can fix it at all.”

He moved the bucket out towards the exit, leaving Niffty in near disbelief from his response. She ran out to catch up to him, only to find herself caught with the extension cord looped up by one of the armrests of the chairs. She tried to pull herself free but only made it worse for herself. She eventually threw the cord to the floor and dropped the vacuum to make a mad dash out of the theater. As she ran out, she saw Eric was already near the lobby and walking out of sight. She ran faster to catch up to him, only to find herself snagged onto a mess of extension cords that were still tangled behind her in the theater. She tried to pull herself out of it but only made it more complicated than she had anticipated.

Meanwhile, Eric carted his mop bucket around in is solemn Attitude towards the closet while pushing past Vaggie. She looked at him with concern and a little sense of irritation, all while Eric drug the mop bucket inside the closet and slammed the door shut. He turned back and walked towards the bar, pulling out twenty bucks. Husk looked at him in his usual attitude.

“Shot of whiskey,” demanded Eric.

“What’s the magic word, asshole,” replied Husk.

“Now…”

Hurk growled in response as he served a small shot glass and poured in the whiskey for Eric. He then took a swig of the bottle as Eric took his shot, as he sat at the bar in his solemn solitude. Vaggie slowly walked over and approached him while gently holding his shoulder.

“Eric, is everything alright,” she asked.

“Just been reminiscing my shit past,” he replied, “Nothing special…”

Vaggie tried to reach out to Eric, only to find him spinning out of his seat and walking away.

“I’m gonna take a nap… Wake me up if you need any help with dinner later on…”

Vaggie looked at Eric in surprise. Just last night, he was dancing and singing. Now he was in such a miserable disposition. Suddenly Niffty barrelled into the lobby with her vacuum and extension cords, which had enveloped her small self. She poked her head out of the mess she was in, trying to breathe after all the struggle she went through.

“I should’ve… wrapped them all… individually…”

Niffty flopped her head on top of the cords, much to the confusion of Husk and Vaggie. What happened with these two would be a complete mystery to them...


	11. Shuffle The Deck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Overwhelmed from all of the stress he's been dealt with, Eric tries his best to go about his day without having to endure any more issues. But someone else is after him and is from the darkest part of his past...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a word of warning, there are some spots of some hateful language. This is not to offend any sensitive readers out there.

### Chapter 11 - Shuffle The Deck

Eric laid on his bed, resting as well as he could despite not being able to nap on his own accord. All he did was lay on the bed and stare at the ceiling the entire time. His time reliving his past had haunted him before, now only wrapped his brain in an endless loop. His mind flooded with the scenes of violence he had witnessed, the senseless abuse his father put him through, the insults swirling in his mind.

“ _ Are you done being a useless faggot? _ ”

“ _...the world will just walk over you like the doormat that you are, you little pussy. _ ”

“ _ I bet if I stuck this up your ass, you might actually try not to fuck it up again… _ ”

“ _ If there’s one thing you and your whore mother have in common, you’re both dumb cunts. _ ”

Eric clenched his fists in anger, breathing heavily in anger over each insult he was given in his past. He closed his eyes for a moment, giving himself a moment of peace. His breathing slowed down, his anger subsided, his hands relaxed. His moment of clarity and peace was brought on by new thoughts. He thought of Charlie and her bright smile, along with her optimism and hopeful attitude. He thought of Vaggie, despite having a bit of a temper, she shared the same hopes as her girlfriend. He thought of Niffty, between her happy-go-lucky attitude and the bright spark of energy that comes out of her. Even though he despised everything about Alastor, there was something in him he felt at ease with. Even if he looked like Satan in a suit, his charming nature and choice of music make for a strange bedfellow in a way. Even Husk seemed like a decent person to be around when he’s not drunk or asleep or a total asshole. But then he thought of Angel Dust… The poor boy was practically a slave to sex for an overlord in a bad fur coat. He felt the need to pry him out of that situation but even he knew there was little to nothing he could do about it in his disposition…

A faint knock on his door broke his train of thought, as he sat up on the bed and looked towards his door.

“Who is it,” he grumbled from his rest.

“It’s Niffty,” she replied, “Dinner’s almost ready! Alastor’s making venison!”

“Huh… That’s different… I’ll be there in a minute!”

Eric stood up and stretched himself a bit, cracking his back and neck slowly. He walked to the door and opened it slightly, stopping abruptly when he noticed a small and familiar figure outside.

“Niffty?”

Niffty stood by his doorway with a look of concern in her large and lonely eye.

“Are you okay Eric,” she asked as she walked up to him.

“Uh yeah, I’m okay… I just needed some time to relax…”

Niffty took one of Eric’s hands and held it gently.

“I didn’t tell the others about what you told me…”

Eric felt a faint set of hairs standing on the back of his neck the moment she said that, feeling a faint sense of anxiety.

“I promise I won’t tell anyone about your past and all… You can tell what you did whenever you feel comfortable…”

Eric’s anxiety decreased slightly, as he then used his free hand to ruffle Niffty’s hair slightly. She giggled in response like a little schoolgirl.

“Thanks, Niffty…”

“Well, dinner’s about ready, let’s go eat!”

Niffty took Eric’s hand and drugged him down the hallway, as he attempted to follow despite her speed beating his own pace.

_ I guess I’ll have to get used to her for a while… Let alone everything here in this hotel… _

* * *

The sun was setting so soon within the hustle and bustle of the city known as Philadelphia. Regular evening traffic was just as noisy and congested as it always has been. Several residents were walking around parts of the city with their own agenda. But the lone apartment that was once occupied by Eric Severino was dark, desolate, and a complete mess. What was left of the living room was practically scattered all over the floor or strewn about in an obtuse display. The flat-screen TV was laying on the corner of the table and broken, only showing static through the large crack on the screen. The table had no damage despite being close to the couch against the wall, a can of Miller Lite, and a cigarette still lit within the ashtray. The couch was pressed up against the wall, still torn from Eric’s failed escape attempt. The dead silence would soon be interrupted by the sound of banging and crashing that came from inside Eric’s closet.

“OW! Damn it all… Where am I? Why did the portal only send me inside a-- Oh wait, I gotta be quiet…”

The closet door opened slowly as a pair of yellow eyes peeked out from inside. It looked back and forth for any sign of life, sighing with a sense of relief as it began to exit the closet. A small creature with red skin and white hair walked out into the living room, wearing an outfit that resembled a tuxedo while holding a double-barrelled shotgun in its hand. It carefully crept around on its toes as it scoured and scavenged around the apartment room. He was somewhat perplexed by the damage in the room itself but decided to move on to avoid losing focus on his task.

“Okay, Moxxie… You can do this… Just find him and kill him… Simple as that…”

He lurked in the kitchen and found no life whatsoever, then crept towards the bathroom and found no one inside there. He double-checked the shower to find no one hiding behind the shower curtain.

“Ehh, that would’ve been too easy…”

He slunk out and saw a door that was closed near the living room. He crept towards it and mentally prepared himself before opening the door. He nodded his head in a brief countdown then swung the door open while aiming his shotgun at the ready. He whipped his gun from side to side, only to find nothing or rather no one around inside. He tip-toed his way towards the bed and brought out his phone to turn on a flashlight. While keeping his gun by his side, he kneeled down and pulled the sheets over to look under the bed, only to find nothing but an old shoebox and what looked like a crowbar underneath.

“What the… This doesn’t make any sense…”

Moxxie walked out of the room and into the living room while holding his shotgun. He turned off the flashlight on his phone and went into his contacts to make a phone call. As he waited during the ringing process, he looked all around the apartment to find any clues as to the disappearance of the target.

“‘Sup Moxxie, did you finish the job yet?”

“No sir, that’s why I’m calling you,” replied Moxxie, “There’s no one here.”

“You gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me Moxxie, the old bastard told us he’d be there!”

“I don’t know what to tell you, sir! He’s not here! There’s no one here at all! Even if they were here, they wouldn’t leave this place in such a mess.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, you’re killin’ me here! You’re tellin’ me we got no indication if that loser is there at all or had been there to begin with?!”

“I’m looking around for clues as we spea-- Wait a second…”

Moxxie looked at a small end table across the front door of the apartment, noticing a set of keys laying on top. He placed his shotgun near the table, then took the keys and looked through the set to find the right one.

“There’s a set of keys here, sir. Let me just check something…”

“Oh, a set of keys, whoopty-fuckin’-doo…”

Moxxie took one key and managed to unlock the door itself, opening it slightly to confirm his theory.

“Just as I thought… Sir, the target was here but somehow disappeared.”

“Disappeared?! How, did he just vanish out of thin air?!”

“I don’t know, sir!”

He stopped and saw Eric’s lit cigarette sitting in an ashtray on the table in the living room, inspecting the small fire and pieces of fresh ashes.

“But he was definitely in here… His cigarette is still lit…”

“Well Holmes, maybe you can use your big brain and baby weiner to find out what happened to him!”

Moxxie growled in aggravation and annoyance as he looked over the furniture for any other clues. As he moved the couch slightly, he noticed a set of burn marks on the back that nearly resembled a circle. He leaned in and noticed something familiar about the smell.

“Sir… I’ll call you back… we may have a problem…”

* * *

It was a while later after dinner, as Eric and Niffty were washing dishes together in the kitchen. Eric stood by the sink to wash each plate and utensil while Niffty stood by to dry each piece and set them on the other side. Eric said nothing but his awkward silence seemed to speak in volumes to Niffty. Even during the dinner, Eric barely said a word to anyone aside from a few ‘yes’s or ‘please pass this or that’. But she could see a strain on his face. Almost looked like he was trying to repress a memory or thinking of another painful moment of his past. But she didn’t want to pry or interfere in any way. Eric washed the last plate and handed it to Niffty, who dried it off with success.

“Alright, I’ll put these away,” he said as he piled the plates up in a set.

“Good work today Eric,” said Niffty as she tried to be jovial.

“Well you were the one who did more work than I did.”

“Ehh, I’m used to working hard.”

Eric chuckled as he placed the set of plates in the cabinet. He then walked out of the kitchen and down the hall to his room. Niffty stood there and watched him as he went into his room, feeling concerned about his own well-being. She heard a set of footsteps walking near her and saw Angel walking around with his phone in his hand.

“Oooh! Miss Angel!”

Angel looked down and saw Niffty hopping up at him like an excited toddler or a little puppy.

“Uhh you don’t have to call me ‘miss’, Niffty,” said Angel as he knelt down, “You know I’m a guy, right?”

“Oh right, sorry Miss Angel-- I MEAN ANGEL!”

Angel chuckled at Niffty’s response. He felt like she was the little sister of the group, between her optimism and near-innocent nature.

“So what can I do for ya’, Niff?”

“Actually… I was wondering if we could talk somewhere private…”

“Why, what’s wrong with talkin’ about it here?”

“It’s about Eric…”

Angel’s eyebrows raised up in surprise. He wasn’t expecting that kind of response about their new tenant and friend but felt something was wrong once she said that.

“Alright, let’s talk in my room…”

* * *

The office of the Immediate Murder Professionals was practically dull and unproductive, with the staff simply minding their own business with absolutely nothing to do. The hellhound with lavish white fur for hair sat by her desk tapping at her hellphone like nothing had changed, despite being bored out of her mind more so than usual. A raven-haired imp with a slight gap in her bright smile sat by another desk while flipping her knife around for tricks, just as bored as the hellhound. Another imp was so bored that he hardly touched his horse figurines by his desk in his own office. He slumped in his seat and sighed heavily, sliding from his seat and onto the floor like a slug.

“Where the fuckin’ shit is Moxxie?”

Just then, a flaming portal opened in his office, as Moxxie entered into the hell realm while holding his shotgun in an idle fashion. The portal closed behind him as he stood there with a worried look on his face.

“Okay, so you’re back. What’s the urgency?”

“Something definitely happened to our target,” said Moxxie as he pulled out his phone.

Moxxie tapped on his hellphone and opened up a series of images of what was Eric’s apartment. He held it up to show the imp, only for him to take it out of his hands and scan through the images themselves.

“Pretty standard apartment in Philly,” muttered the imp.

“Just keep looking, sir,” coaxed Moxxie.

The imp scanned through the images, eventually coming across an image of Eric’s couch that was torn and had a scorched mark that resembled half of a circle on the back.

“Okay, what am I looking at?”

“Well sir, I believe the first portal that we botched from his location seems to have inadvertently brought him into Hell…”

“So in other words… we lost our target… and he’s currently in Hell… as we speak?”

“Yes sir…”

There was a brief moment of awkward silence between the imps.

“So Moxxie, it’s all your fault then…”

“MY FAULT?!”

“Yeah, you screwed the pooch on this like you do _every time_!”

“How can I be responsible for something I wasn’t even involved with before it even happened?!”

“Well, you said you wanted to handle the job by yourself, so you’re at fault for it to begin with!”

“THAT DOESN’T MAKE ANY SENSE!”

Their argument was silenced by a knock on the front door of their facility.

“We don’t want any,” yelled the imp leader, “fuck off! Now Moxxie, you nee--”

Another set of knocking came, this time in fierce slams against the wooden door. The room was filled with an awkward silence and a faint sense of dread. The imp leader looked at Moxxie with uncertainty, then looked at the hellhound who just looked at the door with little to no care whatsoever. The female imp held her knife carefully while looking at the two imps.

“Uhh, Millie, could you be a dear and answer the door?”

Millie nodded and cautiously walked towards the door. But before she could touch the doorknob and turn to open it, the door was slammed into her and crushed her small body against the wall. A large figure stood within the doorframe with short maroon-colored fur and a face that resembled a boar, with dark brown fur that covered his muzzle like a big beard. Its eyes were bloodshot red, looking less like demon eyes but still just as menacing. Its burly figure walked past the reception desk and towards the two imps before him. It looked dead in the imp leader’s eyes, who looked up with an awkward smile.

“Heeeeeeeey,” greeted the imp, “good to see you again… uh… I wanna say... Barry?”

“Brommel,” replied the figure.

“Right right right… So, what can I do ya for?”

Brommel said nothing but leaned in slightly to look squarely into the imp leader’s eyes.

“Is he dead?”

“Is who dead?”

The imp’s words were silenced as Brommel grabbed him by the throat and raised him at eye level, which was over two feet higher than the imp’s own height (including the horns).

“You know goddamn well who I’m talking about… Did you kill my bastard son or not?”

“Well, it’s a little complicated to saAAAAAACK!!!”

Brommel proceeded to choke the imp with one simple squeeze of his large hand, as he choked and gagged for dear life under the mercy of the boar demon.

“I paid for your services… I was told instant results… I wanted him dead… and I don’t mean UNTIL NEXT FUCKING MONTH!”

“STOP!”

Brommel looked down and saw Moxxie standing right in front of him, mustering up the courage to confront him.

“He’s not dead. He wasn’t at home. He’s gone.”

“Ohh well… that changes everything…”

Brommel then grabbed Moxxie by his throat and brought him up at the same height as the other imp in his hand, as both were choking and gagging under his tremendous strength.

“Now I can just kill the two of you…”

“Nice work there, Moxxie” coughed the imp, “Good to know your retardation came in han--DYYYYY!”

Brommel squeezed the imp’s throat harder as his yellow eyes nearly popped out of his skull.

“WAIT,” wheezed Moxxie, “There’s a chance… he may be somewhere c-close!”

Brommel loosened his grip on Moxxie but kept him in his grasp, allowing him to breathe.

“What are you talkin’ about, little bitch?”

“I don’t know how but somehow a portal opened up in his apartment and I believe it brought him down to Hell…”

“YOU MEAN HE’S STILL ALIVE?!”

“Well, to be fair,” retorted the imp through gasping breaths, “he wouldn’t really last long in Hell…”

Brommel released his grip on the other imp enough to let him speak as well.

“He would… *gasp* He wouldn’t last long in Hell… when you got every type of… fucked up sinner down here… I mean, you’ve seen a good amount of sick fucks for the longest time, right?”

Brommel held the two imps in his hands for a short moment, then suddenly released them from his grasp as they dropped onto the floor. But the pain was far from over, as he placed his knee on top of the imp leader’s head. The sounds of bones cracking came from his skull, as he felt the tremendous amount of pressure on his head.

“Alright Blitzo,” he said as he leaned in, “Here’s the situation; I paid good money for you to kill my son and I expect you to find him all over this shithole even if it takes an eternity…”

“First of all, it’s Blitz,” retorted Blitzo, “Second of all, Hell’s a huge place! The little bastard could be anywhere!”

“You took MY money and you’re gonna do it NOW,” bellowed Brommel, “And when you find him, I want you to capture his death on film… I want to be sure that little cum stain gets what he deserves…”

“Wow, quite the father figure,” muttered the hellhound by the reception desk.

Brommel stood up and walked over to the desk, then proceeded to grab her by the neck. His thick hands strangulated her neck and cracked a few bones in the process, putting great emphasis on pain around her throat. She hardly spoke but growled out of anger from his brute strength.

“The last thing I need is to get any smart mouth from a smartass,” growled Brommel, “especially from a fuckin’ blabbermouth cunt LIKE YOU!”

Brommel emphasized his anger by giving her a great backhand upside her head, which would launch her against the nearest wall. Her head slammed so hard that it nearly damaged both the wall and her own skull upon impact. Brommel walked towards the door then looked back at Blitzo before leaving.

“If I don’t see anything within the next two weeks, I’ll use your skins as mudflaps on my car and your whore-hound will be stuffed and mounted by my fireplace.”

He slammed the door shut, as Millie sat on the floor against the wall with a large bruise on her head. Moxxie rushed over to tend to her injuries, while Blitzo and the hellhound took their time to stand up from all of the pain they’ve been through.

“Goddamnit Moxxie, what else can you do to screw this up?”

* * *

Eric rested on the bed, as he held his cross in his hand. His faith and hopes of getting back home seemed to be dwindling the longer he stayed in the hotel, let alone in Hell. He let the cross rest on his chest as the chain was still wrapped around his neck. He was ready to sleep until a knock at his door snapped him out of his subconscious once more.

"Could be going for three if I'm lucky," he grumbled, "Who is it?"

"It's Niffty!"

Eric got up from his bed and tucked in his cross, then walked towards the door and opened it to see Niffty and Angel.

"Oh hey, what's up?"

"We were gonna play a little blackjack with Husk," replied Niffty, "Wanna join in?"

Eric silently contemplated the decision. He didn't have anything else to do and felt the need for some social interaction, not to mention a little bit of fun.

"Sure, what the hell."

Niffty's eye beamed with excitement, her smile looking wider. Angel had a small grin on his face as he walked in between the two.

"Okay bitches, let's play some fuckin' poker," exclaimed Angel.

The three walked down the hall and into the main lobby. By the bar was a modest-sized blackjack table, with Husk sitting behind it shuffling a deck of cards. Though to say Husk was shuffling the cards was an understatement. He shuffled them in a way that made even a Vegas dealer look like an amateur. He held the cards in one hand and flipped them towards his other hand like it was a Slinky. He even went so far as to shuffle them onto the table like a game of dominoes. It was almost mesmerizing to Eric. Niffty took a seat on the far right end, while Angel sat next to her and Eric sat next to him.

"So, who's ready for some blackjack," asked Husk as he bore a cocky grin.

“Depends on if you’re ready to lose,” replied Eric with a smirk.

“Ooooh, I like your cocky attitude kid,” said Angel as he tapped his fingers on the table.

“It’s been forever since I last played poker with Husker,” chimed Niffty.

“I trust you’re all ready to play?”

The familiar voice and radio reception was brought on by Alastor, who had taken his seat next to Eric. With a snap of his fingers, Alastor had brought out a set of chips for everyone with a set of green flames emitting from the table. The chips had three sets of colors, white red and blue.

“Fifty dollars for each of you,” he said, “No need to worry about paying back for this set, it’s on me! Any additional buy-ins are on your own terms, however…”

“Alright folks, ante up,” said Husk as he shuffled the cards, “Five to twenty bucks.”

Each had placed their own amount of chips in their respective pot. Niffty put down at least six or seven dollars worth, Angel over fifteen, Eric put down ten, and Alastor eight dollars worth. Husk dealt the cards to each of them. Niffty had a queen of diamonds and a two of hearts. Angel had two sevens, one club and one diamond. Eric had an ace of spades and a seven of clubs. Alastor had two tens, one diamond and one heart.

“Lucky bastard,” muttered Angel.

Husk set his cards down, his one card was a Jack of clubs. He peeked at his card to see if he had an ace, giving a bit of tension for the rest of the table. He placed the card down and looked at Niffty while holding the deck of cards.

“What say you,” asked Husk.

“Hit me,” replied Niffty eagerly.

Husk placed a card down by her set, revealing a seven of diamonds.

“Okay, I stand.”

Husk gave of a brief smirk, then turned to Angel with his deck.

“You want another card or do you wanna split,” he asked.

“I’ll take another card, Husky baby,” replied Angel in a flirtatious tone.

Husk growled in annoyance as he placed a card by Angel’s set, revealing a four of clubs.

“Eighteen. Wanna try your luck?”

“No thanks, I’m not a sucka’.”

Husk chuckled under his breath, then looked at Eric.

“Eight or eighteen. Whatcha wanna do, kid?”

“Hit me,” replied Eric with a set of confidence.

Husk placed a card down by Eric’s set, revealing a three of hearts.

“Lucky twenty-one,” said Husk, “Nice one.”

"Sah-weeeet," cheered Eric as he shook his fist with pride.

Husk turned to Alastor, flicking his thumb against the deck.

"Whatcha want, Al?"

"I'll take a chance," Alastor replied.

He separated his pair of tens and placed an additional eight dollars worth of chips. Husk pulled out two additional cards for Alastor's set, revealing a Queen of clubs and a King of hearts. Eric felt somewhat concerned about Alastor's set of cards, thinking a certain someone might be cheating.

"I think these will do me well enough, Husker," said Alastor as he tapped his index finger on the table.

Husk set the deck to the side and flipped his card over, revealing a two of spades. He then dealt another card, revealing it to be an eight of diamonds.

"Twenty to me," he said with a smirk.

Niffty and Angel both groaned in their own fashion of frustration, all while Eric chuckled and Alastor gave out his trademark laugh accompanied by the sounds of an audience’s laughter. Husk gave the two their respective wins, then took all of the cards to reshuffle the deck.

“Two winners and two whiners,” he said as he showed off his shuffling tricks, “It happens to all of us. Who’s up for another round?”

Eric set in another ten chips, while Niffty placed in eight chips, while Angel and Alastor placed in twelve chips.

“I ain’t here ta’ lose tonight,” said Angel, “I’m just havin’ a rough start is all…”

“No one ever said you get lucky on the first try,” retorted Alastor.

As the game continued, from the hallway entry stood Vaggie. She stared at the five by the blackjack table in annoyance. The work she and Charlie were working on seemed to take a nosedive every time they revert to the sins that brought them down here. Her hatred seemed to be pointed directly at Alastor, who had laughed as he found himself with a good hand on the table. She then looked over at Eric, who was enjoying himself almost as much as everyone else. She was deathly concerned over his well-being, considering his mortality was at risk. But her concerns were nearly faded by a firm yet gentle hand that gripped onto her shoulder. She turned to see Charlie standing next to her smiling warmly at her, looking at the card game along with her.

“Looks like everyone’s having a good time,” she said.

“I still don’t trust him,” groused Vaggie, “especially around Eric.”

“Don’t worry Vaggie. Eric’s in good hands with us around.”

Vaggie only sighed as she held her girlfriend’s hand gently on her own shoulder. The two stood by each other as they watched the blackjack game, with Angel cursing in Italian over another loss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hadn't originally decided on having Eric's father having any involvement with I.M.P. but Ixmore helped inspire me to utilize the idea.
> 
> Also, he gave me a little feedback on a piece of dialogue, to which I had re-written it for cohesiveness.


	12. Makeover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Niffty and Angel decide to help Eric out by giving him a little bit of help...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember when I said I got some inspiration from some of the comments I received around the first few chapters? Well, they're about to come into play.

### Chapter 12 - Makeover

Eric woke up groggily after a long but enjoyable evening of blackjack with his new friends. He looked over on the nightstand to see roughly three hundred dollars in fifty dollar bills. He smiled as he took the money and shoved it all in his wallet, beaming with a bit of pride.

"A hell of a good time," he said as he stood up and stretched.

He scratched his body and walked out of his room, going down the hallway and towards the kitchen. As he entered, he saw Niffty and Angel standing around holding their own cups of coffee, stopping their conversation and looked at him.

“Morning guys,” he greeted.

The two simply waved back at him as he walked towards the fridge for something to eat. He pulled out two eggs and made his way to the stove, where a clean pan was set. He waited for the stove to warm up, then cracked each egg on the side. As he cooked, he went for the drawers and pulled out a utensil to whip up his eggs, as he noticed Angel making a brief wink towards him and Niffty while proceeding his way out of the kitchen.

"What was that about," asked Eric.

"Oh I dunno," said Niffty, "Anywho, I have some work to do. I'll see you after breakfast!"

Niffty waved erratically as she left the kitchen in a hurry, leaving Eric alone to cook his scrambled eggs. He shrugged off the strange moment and walked to grab a loaf of sliced bread to make some toast. He placed two pieces in the toaster then continued to cook his eggs. After a short while, he grabbed a plate and scooped his scrambled eggs onto it, then walked to the toaster to wait for his toast. Half a minute went by and the pieces popped up in a golden brown color. He then saw the butter on a butter dish with a small knife next to it and gently spread it on his toast. Before he could leave, he noticed the coffee maker was on and decided to have a cup for himself. He set his plate down and looked in the cupboards for a mug. It took a while but he found only one. A white mug that said "Give me your cream, sugar~ XOXO'' in a crude font.

"Must be Angel's…"

Shrugging it off, he took the mug and brewed himself some coffee. He then took a small pack of sugar and a pack of half-and-half cream to mix it well. He grabbed a spoon to mix his coffee and a fork for his breakfast from a nearby drawer. With his coffee in one hand and his meal in another, he was ready to finally have breakfast. He made his way out of the kitchen and down the hall, coming across Charlie and Vaggie in their casual sleepwear, both trying to wake up as they hardly had their eyes open or said a proper word.

"Morning girls," he greeted, "Coffee's still nice and hot."

The two merely grunted in response as they walked past him and into the kitchen. He chuckled slightly as he made his way into the dining room. There he saw Alastor sitting at the table with a small coffee cup served on a small plate, as he sat there stirring with a tiny spoon while looking at a newspaper. He placed the paper down and took his cup and saucer in his hands, only to stop to see Eric sit far away from him with his breakfast.

“Good morning, Mr. Moneybags,” greeted Alastor, “You certainly surprised me with your winning streak, my boy!”

“Ehh, just got lucky, I suppose,” replied Eric before taking a bite of his toast.

“Could be a sign of things to come, young man…”

Eric looked back at Alastor, who took a small sip of his demitasse then returned to the newspaper. Eric tried to ignore him but felt like there was something more to what he had just said to him. All he could do was continue with his breakfast. As he ate his eggs, he looked at the front page of the paper out of curiosity.

**RUMORS SPREAD LIKE HELLFIRE!**

**A HUMAN IN HELL? INTOXICATED TRIPE OR A TERRIBLE TRUTH?**

Eric nearly gagged on his own food as he read the ledger, feeling a sense of anxiety. Could there have been a witness he didn’t know about? Could someone in the hotel have ratted him out? Is there something he didn’t know about before? His mind was full of questions and concerns about his own well-being. He snapped out of his train of thought as he saw Alastor fold the newspaper up and stood up from his seat, taking his demitasse with him. Eric held his hand up to stop him as he walked towards him.

“Hey uh… Alastor?”

“Yes Eric?”

“Do you think I could… um… take a look at the newspaper there?”

Alastor looked at the paper in his hand and bore a friendly smile at Eric.

“Why certainly, my boy! Enjoy the latest news reports!”

Alastor handed Eric the newspaper and took his leave, taking in another drink of his demitasse on his way out. As the doors closed, Eric skimmed through the paper to find the main article. Two pages in and he managed to find the article.

Rumors have circulated within Pentagram City of a living human wandering the streets and/or back alleys. Few witnesses have come forward with this wild rumor, mostly a handful of unnamed bums that have seen the human walking around but are not sure where the human may be. This reporter should note that they were highly intoxicated upon interview so their source of information may not even be reliable. However, a recent interview with the recently regenerated Mechallan Mord, of the infamous assassin duo the Mord Bros., has confirmed the appearance of the human within the city.

Eric felt the hair standing on the back of his neck as he read through the article, anxiety hitting him like a hammer.

“I last saw the human running down the alleys like a rat being chased out of a kitchen,” said Mechallan, “He was fighting off a group of hobos before I showed up. Once I took a hold of him, I was ready to take him away on a whim. But someone had interfered and tore us all apart like ragdolls, all while leaving our bodies in a lurch. When I finally regenerated, I found my gun and my money was stolen from me. If that human is still alive, I will make sure to skin him alive.”

“Jesus fucking Christ…”

Mordechai, the brother, has stated his doubts, saying how it would be impossible for a human to still be alive in Hell considering the surplus of sinners and sickos that thrive within the realm. This reporter agrees. While it does seem far-fetched that a human could be in Hell alive and well, the possibilities are endless when it comes to having one within one’s grasp.

Flummoxed and frustrated beyond belief, Eric crumpled the newspaper into a big ball and tossed it in the fireplace, watching it burn away easily.

“Fucking hell, they’re starting to catch onto me…”

He sat back down in his seat and continued eating his breakfast, albeit slower than usual. He felt uneasy eating his eggs and toast after reading the unfortunate news he had read, his anxiety kicking up a notch. He drank his coffee more than he had consumed his own breakfast, to the point where he nearly let it spill on himself. He placed his mug down for a moment while taking a nibble of his toast, only to stop and push his plate away. He nearly finished his eggs, yet he had half of each piece of toast left on his plate. He hardly felt hungry now thanks to the upsetting set of news. His moment of silence was interrupted when Vaggie and Charlie walked in with bowls of oatmeal and their own cups of coffee. They sat down opposite of Eric, who was ready to leave as he stood up and took his plate and mug.

"Everything alright, Eric," asked Vaggie.

"Uh yeah," replied Eric, "just not as hungry as I thought I was…"

"Well, when you have a moment," said Charlie before taking a sip of her coffee, "meet with Niffty in the penthouse, there's a room in need of some TLC."

"Alrighty then."

With that, Eric left the room and headed towards the kitchen to clean up, making a near dash down the hall. As he went inside, Alastor stood by from afar as he took notice of Eric's race towards the kitchen.

"News travels fast, dear boy…"

* * *

A while later, Eric walked out of the kitchen and down the hallway, trying to ease up from the stress he was under. He passed by the bar where Husk was as he stretched himself almost like a cat would, his wings stretched out further. Eric walked into the elevator and pressed the button for the penthouse. He sat in the elevator, lounging against the bar while listening to the Dixieland music playing, this time playing a different tune. The elevator let out a 'DING' as he found himself back in the penthouse suite. He saw no one around the hallway, so he assumed Niffty was inside the room already. As he opened the door, he was taken by surprise by two figures in the room.

"Hey there, Sevvy~"

Sitting on the couch was Angel Dust holding a set of clothes, while Niffty sat next to him with a small box in her hands. The two were smiling from ear to ear.

“Okay, what’s going on,” Eric asked suspiciously.

“Well, Angel and I were talking about you,” Niffty began, “And we felt you needed to de-stress yourself…”

“So I’m gonna take you out for tha’ day to help you unwind a little,” chimed Angel.

Eric’s eyes were wider than saucers upon hearing this bold and dangerous plan of theirs.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me,” he said, “I’d be an open target for every sick fuck out there!”

“Oh we know, sweetheart, that’s why Niffty came up with a brilliant plan.”

Niffty stood up and held up the small box, her smile looking wider. She opened the box, revealing what looked like a set of paints, makeup, an electric razor, and a pair of scissors.

“We’re gonna give you a makeover,” she cheered as she nearly bounced up and down.

“And a whole new wardrobe ta’ match!”

Eric still felt perplexed about the idea. Even if he wanted to leave, it still didn’t feel right altogether.

“But Niffty, we have work to do with this room and Charlie and Vaggie might--”

“Don’t worry about a thing,” said Niffty, “They have some of their errands to do, so they won’t be around to check up on us.”

“But what about Alas--”

“Smiles has got a broadcast ta’ go to today,” replied Angel, “Unless we pry into his room, I think we’ll be safe from him for a while.”

“And besides, I can handle this room all by myself. You saw how well I handled myself yesterday.”

Eric nodded in response, still perplexed and amazed at her cleaning abilities. He thought about it for a short moment but then Angel spoke up once more.

“And if you’re worried about protection…”

Angel suddenly pushed out a third set of arms while also brandishing a large tommy gun, while his first pair of arms pulled out two pistols from behind his back and his second pair of arms held a pump-action shotgun.

“...I gotcha covered, sweetheart~”

Bewildered, Eric seemed to like it would be easier than he had anticipated. Perhaps this wouldn’t be so bad to handle…

“Well… Alright, let’s give it a shot.”

Niffty simply giggled with delight as she pulled out the electric razor and the pair of scissors.

“Let’s start with a little trimming first,” she said as she turned on the razor.

Eric gently stroked his small beard as he sat on the couch next to Niffty. Angel pulled out a small towel and placed it on his lap.

“I figured ya wanted to keep the room a little clean,” he said as he stood up and watched.

Niffty hardly said anything and began to take into shaving Eric’s beard. Slowly but surely, the goatee began to fade from fur to peach fuzz. The pieces of hair had surprisingly landed safely on the towel left upon his lap. Even with her erratic nature, she hardly hurt Eric through her shaving process. Even as she pressed further into his skin to get a finer shave, he hardly felt any pain or even any nicks from the razor. As soon as she started, she immediately shut off the razor. He sat up slightly and felt how his mandible was a little smoother.

“And now you look less scraggly,” cheered Niffty, “But that’s only part one…”

Niffty pulled out the scissors and clipped them in front of Eric. He leaned back on the couch, as he felt a towel against his head and neck, chuckling to himself at Angel’s sense of preparation. Niffty hopped off of the couch and began to trim some of Eric’s hair off from behind. Eric had a brief sense of relief as he felt his near shoulder-length hair being taken off with ease.

"And there we go!"

Eric sat up once more and reached around the back of his neck. He felt his hair was roughly an inch shorter than it was prior. Niffty hopped on the couch and pulled out a small mirror for him to see how he looked. He took notice of the drastic changes and almost admired his new feature.

"We're not done yet, Sevvy," said Angel as he grabbed a set of paints and brushes.

"Time for the real work to begin," chimed Niffty as she held a set of paints and brushes.

"Alrighty then," said Eric as he leaned back, "do that voodoo that you do…"

And with that, Eric shut his eyes and let the two do their job. They got up close to Eric and worked on painting his face all over, working from the forehead down to his neck.

“Are you sure this is how it’s supposed to be, Angel?”

“Yeah, I got the picture ‘ere, look.”

Angel pulled out his phone and showed Niffty an image, all while Eric sat back and peeked one eye open to see what was going on.

“Ohh okay, I got the wrong color here… Thanks Angel!”

"What are you guys doi--"

"DON'T MOVE! This has to be perfect!"

Eric confided and mumbled an 'okay' as he closed his eyes again. He felt the paint and brushes all over his face once more, feeling the amount of detail being put into his new look.

"Just a few more touch-ups, Sevvy…"

He felt smaller brush strokes against his face, feeling a particular design being traced on him. His curiosity was peaking as he tried not to peek.

"DONE!"

Eric opened his eyes and sat up straight. Angel handed the mirror to him as Niffty was beaming with anticipation. Eric took the mirror and looked directly at his reflection. The makeup put on his face resembled something similar to a skull but was exaggerated with a mixture of white, red, and black. Eric was perplexed yet amazed.

"Whoa… this is crazy…"

“Just wait ‘til ya’ go outside,” replied Angel, “The real madness is out there… But first…”

Angel pulled out a set of clothes for Eric, who took them and looked at each piece given to him. One was a combination dark brown leather jacket with a blue denim vest, giving off a tough motif. The pants were a set of cargo pants in a dark sand color. He also had a set of black leather gloves given to him.

“What are the gloves for,” asked Eric.

“Well, you’re still showin’ skin with your hands, Sevvy,” replied Angel, “Figured you could wear somethin’ to keep yourself incognito and all.”

Accepting the idea, Eric put on the gloves first, then slipped out of his original pants. He revealed his set of maroon boxers as he undressed from his lower half, much to the amusement of Angel and Niffty.

“Ooooh, such sexy legs,” cooed Niffty.

Eric only chuckled as he put on the cargo pants. He slipped on his boots then took to the jacket/vest combo. As he trussed himself and dusted hisself to look neat, he took a look at his attire casually.

“Well, how do I look?”

“Not bad,” replied Angel, “Now take it all off and give us a show!”

“Angel…”

The two demons chuckled in amusement as Eric prepared himself for the eventual departure. He looked at his older set of pants and checked his pockets for his items. While his wallet was still intact, another item was missing. Or rather three items were missing…

“Oh shit, I forgot my phone and iPod and speaker. I must’ve left them back in the ballroom.”

“Actually I looked for them earlier and didn’t see them,” replied Niffty, “I thought you took them already.”

“No I didn’t. Where else could the-- Oh no…”

The three had one particular thought in mind. And their thoughts were all on one rudimentary demon.

“Alastor…”

“Smiles took your stuff eh,” asked Angel, “Can’t say I’m surprised…”

“If I go anywhere near that room, I’ll be a goner. Especially looking like this!”

“Leave it to me!”

Eric and Angel looked down at Niffty, who simply smiled at the two.

“Alastor lets me into his room anytime I want,” she continued, “because he trusts me more than anyone. Plus I keep it nice and clean.”

“But what about his shadows? Won’t they try to stop you?”

“Leave that to me. You boys just meet me downstairs.”

Eric was near dumbfounded as he saw the little cyclops skipping out of the room and into the elevator.

“Well how are we going to go downstairs without drawing attention to me?”

“Easy,” replied Angel as he snapped his fingers, “You can take the dumbwaita’!”

“The what now?”

Angel took Eric by his wrist and guided him out of the penthouse. Down the hallway, the two came across a room that looked like a large storage closet. From the far back was a compartment door and a small set of buttons. Angel pressed one of the buttons and the door opened.

“Tada! Your dumbwaita’ is goin’ express from tha’ penthouse to tha’ ground floor!”

Eric looked at the dumbwaiter and felt awkward having to take it just to reach the ground floor. But the options were already limited for his sake.

“I guess it’s better than nothing,” he muttered as he climbed inside.

“If what Niffty told me was right, this should take ya’ down all the way into the theater’s backstage area. Should have an exit door around there too. Just wait for us to meet you down there, alright?”

Eric nodded as he took his seat inside the dumbwaiter, his head nearly cramped from his position while his feet pressed against the opposite side.

“Alright Sevvy, enjoy the trip down!”

Angel pressed a button that closed the door and brought the dumbwaiter down. Even though he was still cramped inside, he could feel almost at ease inside the compartment. The speed of the dumbwaiter’s descent was slightly faster than the elevator he rode on earlier. He could see through the small window various other floors of the hotel during his descent. The closer he got to the ground floor, the more anxious he felt about leaving the hotel. He knew it wouldn’t be for long but even he wasn’t 100% sure it was a good idea.

_I just hope I’ll make it out of this whole mess alive…_

* * *

Meanwhile, Niffty exited the elevator and noticed Charlie and Vaggie leaving through the front door. She saw Alastor taking a newspaper in hand and left just a minute after the girls’ departure. Husk took to his usual spot behind the bar and began to drink like a fish. With the coast clear, Niffty darted down the hall and towards Alastor’s room. She held the doorknob gently and turned it to open. The room was dimly lit from the fireplace burning softly, the embers nearly fading. She looked around as best as she could from the nearly dark room and saw the shelving case. Next to the gramophone were three small devices; two touch-screen devices and a small speaker.

“There they are!”

Niffty ran inside and was ready to reach out for them, only to be stopped by several shadows that resembled Alastor. Their screeches echoed within the room, their red eyes casting a gaze into her.

“Hello boys!”

The shadows said nothing but kept their stares on her.

“I just wanted to come in and get Eric’s stuff back.”

She tried to make her way forward but the shadows screeched and howled at her, preventing her from moving any further.

“Oh now come on, boys. Couldn’t you let little ol’ me take the stuff back to where it belongs?”

Her singular eye expanded slightly as she gave a cute little smile at the shadows, who looked at her with uncertainty. Their screeches were more confused.

“Pretty please?”

Her iris grew larger as her smile looked more defined, as her speech sounded more like she was acting like a child. The shadows grew more uncomfortable, trying to resist her charms.

“ _Pwetty pwetty pweeeeeease_?”

Niffty flickered her eye in a moment that felt too cute to handle, as the shadows lost their concentration and flew away from her in a huff.

“Still got it…”

She reached up and took Eric’s items and took her leave, but not before waving back at the shadows who watched her as she departed.

“Thank you, boys!”

The shadows groaned as she left. They just can’t handle the cuteness of that little cyclops…

* * *

The dumbwaiter had finally reached the ground floor, as Eric could see part of the backstage area through the small window. As he reached the door, he could hardly move it to get out. He shifted to the left but it wouldn’t budge. He tried the right but it was the same result. All he could do was hope the others would arrive shortly. He leaned back to try and relax but hardly had enough room to do so. Before he could try another way, the door had finally opened.

“Had a nice trip,” asked Angel as he reached out.

“Not really,” replied Eric as he took Angel’s hand.

Angel pulled Eric out of the dumbwaiter, giving him the chance to move around and stretch.

“Well, we should be all good now. All we gotta do is wait for Niff--”

“Here I am!”

The two nearly jumped as Niffty came around with two of Eric’s devices.

“I got your iPod and your phone here,” she said as she handed the devices to him.

“Thanks Niffty,” he replied as he took his items.

“I put your speaker back in your room and managed to find these as well.”

Niffty pulled out a small set of wired earphones and handed them to him.

“Sweet, thanks Niffty!”

“Well, I better get back to work before anyone gets suspicious.”

She took her leave faster than the two had anticipated. Angel looked at Eric expectantly.

“So… you ready to go, sweetheart,” he asked with his lower hands on his hips.

Eric took in a big breath and let out a long sigh.

“Yeah… let’s do it…”

Angel led Eric to a back door within the backstage area. As Eric got close to the door, he pulled out his cross from under his shirt and jacket, holding it close and kissed it. He looked at it for a short while until he saw Angel looking at him with a warm smile.

“Hey don’t worry Sevvy, I’ll be here to protect ya’.”

Eric smiled back at him, almost relieved.

“Thanks Angel…”

With that, Angel pushed the door open as the red sky shone bright and the two went out the door together. There’s no telling what he was going to experience…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A cliffhanger! Oooh, I'm sure you must hate that kind of thing. But don't worry, this is where things get a little interesting...
> 
> Special thanks to Energywitch for the idea (as mentioned in the comments from Chapter 4)
> 
> UPDATE: Forgot to show a reference to Eric's makeup design. It's based on this look in GTA Online (Here's an image reference https://cutt.ly/Dk9cSqe)


	13. Errands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With his new disguise, Eric goes around Pentagram City with Angel to run a few errands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just as a reminder, this is what Eric is supposed to look like while out with Angel in Pentagram City (https://cutt.ly/Dk9cSqe)

### Chapter 13 - Errands

Eric found himself standing outside of the hotel for the first time in a long while. He still felt like a sitting duck but had hoped the outfit and makeup would prevent anyone from recognizing him as a human being. But the only bit of relief he had was his new friend Angel being right beside him to protect him from any danger. It was strange to give his trust on a prostitute but the options were already limited for him. But the spider demon was the least of his concerns. Every other demon that the two passed by only added a bit of anxiety than he was ready to handle. On the outside, Eric was as cool as a cucumber. Inside, he was ready to shit himself. Angel took notice and tried to alleviate his stress.

“You look like you’re ready to explode, kid,” said Angel as he put his hand on Eric’s shoulder.

“I’ve been in Hell for roughly four days and I’ve hardly stepped outside of the Hotel,” replied Eric.

“Hey relax, you’re wit’ me. As long as the others don’t find us out ‘ere or we get into any mischief, we’ll be safe.”

“Yeah.. sure…”

“The girls haven’t trusted me on leavin’ the hotel for anythin’ outside of my job, not since I got caught in a turf war with Cherri.”

“Cherri?”

“Cherri Bomb. She can be a wicked bitch but she’s been my bestie for decades.”

“I’m taking a wild guess and saying she’s a bit of a bombs expert…?”

“What makes you say that,” asked Angel in a coy manner.

Eric chuckled at his remark as the two passed by several slums and rundown stores. But as they went further down the sidewalk, the area went from dismal to something more rural. They came across a set of shops that looked almost upscale.

“Ohh before I forget…”

Angel brought his third set of arms out and revealed a large handbag. It was made of faux leather material and in a maroon color. He then handed the bag over to Eric.

“I need you to be the bag boy today. I got a few errands to run anyway.”

“Gee thanks…”

“Oh don’t be so grumpy! I got something special in mind for you today.”

“Oh yeah, what’s that?”

“Just walk wit’ me, talk wit’ me… I got somethin’ to talk to ya’ about…”

Eric walked alongside him, feeling curious. Angel took in a deep breath and let out a sigh.

“Niffty told me about what you went through…”

Eric’s eyes widened in shock and surprise.

“She told me she wouldn’t tell anyone, the little bitch!”

“Hey hey hey, she wanted to tell me because she trusts me on this.”

Eric curled his fingers up and placed his pisiform against the top of his head, groaning in frustration.

“‘Sides, you’re not tha’ only one with a shit dad…”

Eric turned back to Angel, surprised to hear more issues on his own behalf.

“I don’t think I need ta’ tell ya’ about how my pops hates me for what I am and my lifestyle choices…”

“I think I can imagine someone like him calling you a certain homophobic slur…”

“More often than ‘fuck’, that’s for sure…”

Eric could feel a sense of uncomfortable tension from what he was told, but Angel was far from finished.

“Didn’t help bein’ part of the Family either… really frowned upon…”

“Family? Wait, you mean like the Mafia?”

“One and tha’ same… Pops was a Capo for a long time, only thin’ that made ‘im happy… And the three of us were his closest crew members…”

“Three…?”

“Oh yeah, I forgot ta’ tell ya’ about my sibs. There’s my brother, who goes by the name Arackniss nowadays. He’s the oldest out of us three. He’s trusted by Pops because he’s good with guns, especially rifles and snipers. That and he’s straight compared to me bein’ gay…”

“How is he to you?”

“Ehh, when he’s not tryin’ to stay on Pops’ good side, he’s pretty good. We get into our usual squabbles but that’s practically normal for any sibs.”

“Okay… and who’s your other sibling?”

“My sista’, Molly. She’s my twin… literally…”

“Ohh, fraternal twin then…”

“Yeah, she was my bestie before I died… Did all she could to protect me from Pops, but it still wasn’t enough… I'm hopin' she at least made it to Heaven…"

The two continued their walk through an uncomfortable awkward silence, amidst the noise of the city. Eric wanted to ask him the ultimate question but felt it would be too much to ask and would only make things worse for Angel. So he let it go so they walked around the city.

"Here we are."

Eric snapped out of his thoughts and looked up at where they were. He noticed a building with two large display windows full of guns, two sets of mannequins wearing bandoliers full of ammunition while holding shotguns and rifles.

"A gun shop," asked Eric, "I thought you already had guns?"

"Oh this isn't just for me, Sevvy," replied Angel, "We're gonna get you a gun."

Before Eric could reply or even stop him, Angel pulled him into the store as the bells rang from above. Inside were flak jackets, camo clothing, large sets of body armor, and boxes of ammunition all over the place. Surrounding the floors were display cases full of weapons covered by safety glass; pistols, revolvers, knives, brass knuckles, even various sizes of pepper spray. The main desk had a strange-looking demon that resembled a rabbit wearing a red flannel shirt but had dark purple fur, large deer-like antlers, a red demon eye in his left eye, a gold-colored cat eye in his right eye, and a small set of fangs jutting out from the top of his mouth. Behind the rabbit demon were numerous rifles, shotguns, machine guns, and pistols shelved or hung above on display. The rabbit demon looked at the two inquisitively.

"Well howdy-doodily-doo," greeted the rabbit demon in a mild southern accent, "welcome to Jericho's Gun Shop! What can I get for you two?"

"Hey there Jeri," greeted Angel, "remember me?"

"Hold on, my eye isn't as reliable as it used to be…"

Jericho pulled its right eye out of his socket and rubbed it against his jacket. Eric was nearly creeped out at the sight but realized that he's seen worse. The rabbit demon placed his eye back in his socket then looked at Angel closely.

"Angel Dust, my favorite customer!"

"Been a while, hasn't it? How's business goin'?"

"Well, it ain't gettin' worse but hardly any better…"

Jericho looked over Angel and saw Eric standing behind him.

"Who's your friend there?"

"Oh, that's uhh…"

Angel was stuck trying to think of a name to give Eric, nearly stammering to find a proper name. Eric took notice and walked up next to him to intervene.

"Uh Thurl," he replied with a thick southern accent, "Just Thurl, I'm uh new here in Hell."

Angel silently sighed in relief when Eric stepped in. The name was far from perfect but what else could be done about it?

"Well at least you came to the right place for protection," Jericho said, "Newbies hardly last a week without gettin' the right tools."

Jericho reached from under the counter and pulled out an Uzi 9mm submachine gun, colored in all black aside from the magazine which had a silver color.

"This li'l beauty can scare a crowd of demons away, especially those that share their own *ahem* circle jerk groups…"

Eric looked at it for a while, feeling hesitant to take it.

"I dunno," said Eric reluctantly, "I was looking for something for close encounters for now…"

"Ohh I got plenty of shotguns for that."

Jericho stowed the Uzi under the counter, then walked towards the wall and pulled out a large pump-action shotgun with a wooden stock.

"Remington 1897. This is a little old-fashioned but certain to blow a fucker's head off clean without hesitation."

Jericho handed Eric the shotgun, as he felt the weight of the metal and wood. Even though he didn’t mind the gun choice, it hardly seemed necessary.

“It’s not bad but it’s a little too bulky for me,” he said as he handed the shotgun back, “Got anything smaller?”

Jericho hummed inquisitively for a moment before walking off to grab two small pump-action shotguns in each arm. One looked like a standard shotgun but the other had what looked like a folding stock, both in black. The rabbit demon placed the folded stock shotgun on the counter first.

“This’un’s another Remington,” Jericho began, “870, old fashioned pump-action with a foldable stock that’s as pretty as a convertible.. It’s what the cops use at times.”

Jericho placed the other shotgun on the counter.

“This’un’s an Ithica 37. ‘Stakeout’, as some call it.”

Jericho placed his hands on both guns, looking at Eric in the eyes.

“Now these are great for up-close-and-personal kills, but the Ithica is more like a cannon when it fires, trajectory like you wouldn’t fuckin’ believe. The Remington, however, has got more of a spread when you shoot. Could knock down a few guys when far away and tear their midsections apart when you’re really close to ‘em.”

Eric took the Ithica and held it in his hands. While lighter than the last shotgun, it seemed decent enough but didn’t feel like an ideal choice. He placed it down and grabbed the Remington 870. It felt somewhat heavier than the Ithica but as he held it in his hands it felt somewhat natural to hold it. He pumped the handle and aimed around the shop away from Angel and Jericho.

“This seems like a proper choice for me,” said Eric as he mimicked a gunshot noise.

“Heheh, I like this kid already,” said Jericho as he pulled out four boxes of shells.

“How much do we owe ya’ Jeri,” asked Angel.

“Ordinarily, it’a cost about two grand altagetha’... But I got a decent sale with an added bonus.”

Jericho pointed to a sign on the far left of the store.

**BUY A SHOTGUN OF CHOICE, GET 25% OFF AND A FREE PISTOL**

“Sounds like a fair deal,” said Eric as he pulled out his wallet.

He dug into his wallet and took out a couple hundreds and fifties, flicking through each bill to calculate the total amount. Going through what he had, he saw he had roughly $1350 total.

“Oh and the ammo for both costs extra,” said Jericho.

Before Eric could say or do anything, Angel took the money from his hands and pulled out a few sets of hundreds from within his furry cleavage.

“Would this be enough,” asked Angel with a pursed lip.

Jericho took the money and flipped through each dollar at a quicker pace than Eric.

“Two thousand dollars,” he said as he rang up the register, “And three-forty-five is your change.”

Angel took the change and handed it to Eric, who was surprised by Angel’s actions.

“Now I’m sure ya’ll want somethin’ to carry that gun around with,” said Jericho, “I’ll set up a strap for ya’ free of charge. Hang tight while I get that and a set of pistols for ya’ll to look at.”

As Jericho walked in the back with the Remington, Eric turned to Angel to speak to him.

“Why did you do that,” he asked, “You didn’t have to--”

“I said I owe you one, didn’t I,” replied Angel, “You helped me out, now I’m helpin’ you out.”

“But Angel, don’t you need that mon--”

Angel stopped his sentence by pulling out a small handful of money from his cleavage once more.

“A few emergency funds, sweetheart~”

Eric’s surprised reaction soon faded into a small smile.

“Thanks Angel…”

“‘Sides you can help pay for some of the other stuff later on.”

Eric chuckled in response, knowing there would be some sort of catch.

“Sounds fair, I suppose…”

Jericho came back out with a case and the Remington with a strap encased within the folding stock.

“Here’s yer’ shotgun and I have a series of pistols for you ta’ choose from.”

Jericho handed the shotgun to Eric, who draped it over his shoulder. Jericho then took the case and placed it on the counter, opening it to reveal three separate pistols. He took out one that had a two-tone color scheme.

“This’un’s a Jericho 941,” he said, “Handy and packs a bit more punch than the average pistol. More ideal for ‘sending a message’, if’n ya catch my drift…”

He put the pistol down and pulled out the center pistol, which was smaller than the other two and was colored all black.

“SIG-Sauer M11-A1. This has been used by cops and feds. Quicker fire rate, ‘specially if you wanna make those fuckers dance.”

He placed the pistol down and held the last pistol on the right. It was bigger than the Sauer and in silver.

“Smith & Wesson 659. Now, this is a good gun for both. Less fire rate but still got enough firepower to make some fuckers get the idea. Holds more ammo too.”

As Jericho placed the last gun down, Eric took the 659 and held it in his hand. He inspected it carefully, saw the button for the magazine, and popped it out. He inspected the inside of the magazine, then placed it back inside the gun and slid the top back and forth. As Eric took the SIG-Sauer to inspect that, Angel looked on with surprise. He never thought Eric was bound to know how a pistol would work, but it seemed he was all-too-familiar with how it works. Even as he grabbed the 941, it almost felt natural for him to handle the guns. Eric placed the 941 back down and took the 659 in his grasp once more.

“I like this one more…”

“Excellent choice,” replied Jericho, “I can tell you got some good taste. I’ll get the ammo and have ya’ll on yer way.”

As Jericho left, Eric took aim at the gun as Angel leaned in to talk to him.

“You seem pretty interested in your guns,” he said, “You some sorta gun expert?”

“Kinda,” replied Eric, “My uncle took me to some shooting ranges when he took me in. Told me the times when he and my bastard father used to get along well enough in and out of the range.”

“So what happened?”

Eric lowered the gun and placed it back on the counter. His expression turned sour when he looked back at Angel.

“I was born…”

“What?”

Before Eric could continue, he saw Jericho coming back with three boxes of pistol ammunition and three magazine clips.

“Alrighty, here’s yer clips and bits,” he said, “All accounted for. Anythin’ else ya’ll need?”

Eric took the pistol, ammo, and clips and stuffed them all into his bag.

“Nope I think we’re all good here,” he replied almost hastily.

“Alright, ya’ll come back soon! I’ll have new stock within a week or so!”

Eric nodded and waved in reply as Angel followed him out the door. As the two walked down the sidewalk, Angel took the initiative to speak up.

“So… wanna talk about it?”

Eric took in a deep breath and let out a heavy sigh. His pace slowed as he began to speak.

“My uncle told me that I was actually born as an accident,” he began, “Broken condom or a shitty contraceptive, I don’t fucking know… I didn’t even ask… The news hit me more than what the cause was…”

Angel could feel the bitter anguish from Eric’s story and angry tone. He seemed ready to explode as he continued to tell his story.

“He had to give up his carpentry job since it wouldn’t be enough to pay for everything including the bundle of joyless life that was me apparently…”

Eric reached into his pocket and pulled out a packet of cigarettes and his lighter. He took a cigarette out and lit it as best as he could, taking in a few puffs.

“My mother… God bless her, was like a real parent to me… Taught me right from wrong, what to say and what not to say, everything a good mother would do for her son… She was like a guardian angel to me… until she died…”

Eric felt Angel’s hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see the spider demon smiling at him in reassurance.

“I’m sure Niffty told you all of that and then some… All that’s left for me is… or was my job back on Earth… But now I’m here walking about the underworld with every sinner and sick fuck about.”

Eric took another smoke of his cigarette and let out a puff of smoke, then turned to Angel.

“So… If you don’t mind me asking… How did you… well…”

“Die,” asked Angel.

“Yeah… You don’t have to tell me if you don’t wan--”

“Overdose…”

Eric looked at Angel in shock, who now had a defeated and sad look on his face.

“I overdosed on cocaine one night… Tried to ease my own pain… That was my biggest problem at the time, using drugs to soothe my pain… But I went too far and OD’d at home…”

It was Angel’s turn to pull out his own pack of cigarettes. Before he could reach for a lighter, Eric pulled out his own lighter and flipped it on for him. Angel took his smoke and huffed and puffed, then pulled back to exhale his red smoke.

“Worse thing was my old man walked into my room as I was losing control of my own body. I did all I could to beg for help, even raised my hand to him for help…”

Eric could see Angel’s black eye tearing up, the emotional turmoil beginning to bubble like an overheated kettle.

“...faccia di katzo strunz’ left the room… left me to fuckin’ die there…”

Both eyes were beginning to flood with tears but Angel wiped them off erratically, trying to keep his composure.

“After everythin’ I did for him… We did for him… All those fuckin’ jobs… the bodies we buried or burned…"

Angel took in another puff of his cigarette, letting out an exasperated sigh as the red smoke blew out.

“That’s my fatha’ for ya’... the stanna mabaych who sent me to Hell…”

Angel stopped at a nearby wall and leaned on it to take a proper smoke break. Eric flipped his shotgun off of his back and onto his chest, then leaned up next to him to finish his own cigarette. He saw Angel puff out a small amount of red smoke before reaching inside his furry cleavage once more. This time, he pulled out a silver flask and unscrewed the top to take a drink.

“Mind if I have a taste,” asked Eric.

Angel had a small smirk and passed the flask to him. Eric took the flask and took a small sip. He recognized the bitter taste of whiskey inside the flask.

“Surprised you went with whiskey. I figured you were more of a 7 & 7 kinda person…”

“Alcohol is alcohol,” retorted Angel, “As long as I get to drown some things out with it, I don’t care if it’s some moonshine or watered down rum…”

Eric could feel a great sense of tension and anger out of Angel. He knew he shouldn’t have asked about Angel’s past but both have had their shares of grievances and pain. As he smoked his cigarette down to the butt, Eric flicked it away and looked at Angel. The tears were gone but the pain was still apparent on his face. They stood there in silence for a short while until Eric decided to break the silence in an unorthodox manner.

“Three gay men are at a funeral for their departed lovers,” he began, “After the service, they receive the ashes of their respected lovers. Later on, the three men sit down in a lounge with their respective set of ashes and decide what to do with them.”

Angel listened in as he finished his cigarette, perplexed Eric would begin a story or joke at a time like this.

“The first man said ‘My Frankie loved to skydive for fun. I think I’ll scatter his ashes in the sky, just so he can get one last thrill.’ The second man said ‘My Kenny loved to fish and swim. I think I’ll scatter his ashes in his favorite lake, so he can be with the fishes.’”

Eric paused for a moment, building the anticipation for the last bit.

“The third man said ‘My Benny was such a great lover… I think I’ll put his ashes in a pot of chili, just so he can tear my ass up one more time.’”

Eric looked back at Angel, who looked at him with wide eyes. Then he saw the slight stifle in his lips and face, then came the great guffaw.

“AHAHAHAHAHAAAA! Holy shit, that was hilarious!”

Eric took a bit of pride in telling Angel that joke, watching as the spider demon was laughing harder than he had anticipated and tears flooded his eyes for a different purpose. Angel flicked his cigarette while laughing so hard.

“Damn I haven’t had a good laugh for some time! You got me good, kid!”

Eric gave off a chuckle, happy he was able to make someone laugh. Happy for once in a long while.

“Come on, let’s keep movin’. I got another stop to make.”

* * *

The two continued their walk further into the city. Eric was still a little nervous being out in the open but felt relaxed spending his time with Angel. Even though he was a male prostitute, Eric felt at peace around him, even after Alastor’s shenanigans. Their walk was interrupted when Angel placed his lower arm against Eric’s chest.

“Here we are!”

Eric looked up and saw what looked like a wooden vinyl record hanging around and swinging in the wind. He looked at the building itself and saw a large window with a sign displayed on it.

**MELODY’S MUSIC STORE**

**CYLINDERS, VINYLS, 8-TRACKS, CASSETTES, CDS, AND MORE!**

**INSTRUMENTS BUILT/REPAIRED OF ANY KIND**

“A music shop eh,” said Eric, “Couldn’t hurt to look around.”

Angel merely chuckled as he walked into the store first while Eric followed behind. As the two walked in, Eric took in the near-nostalgia of the shop itself. Inside looked a lot larger than what he originally expected. Dead center of the room were racks upon racks of vinyl records, 8-track tapes, cassette tapes, and CD cases all arranged in a proper organization. Each rack section was segmented into various genres of music; rock, rap, classical, techno, reggae, pop, and many more. Eric felt like he was back in Philly as a kid again. He went through a random section and found records of different artists. Upon further inspection, he found he was in the rap aisle as he saw artists from Earth such as Snoop Dogg, Dr. Dre, Xhibit, Ice Cube, Biggie Smalls, 2Pac, Eazy-E, and even Big Punisher. In fact, he found an album of Big Pun’s called “Capital Punishment”.

“Hells yeah…”

“Find anythin’ good,” asked Angel as he approached him.

“Yeah, check this out. I got some of his songs on my iPod, definitely worth listening to.”

“Ehh, never was into rap when it came into Hell… Too much crazy shit with it…”

“Man, you haven’t heard good rap until you listen to some of this guy’s stuff. Hell, Twinz is a good choice to start with.”

“Yeah sure…”

Angel wandered around and scoured through different genres. Rather than going through CDs, he was going through different vinyl records. Eric walked near him and followed him around.

“So what are you looking for?”

“I’m tryna’ find an album in particular… Somethin’ from a long-ass time ago…”

“Okay… Who’s the singer?”

“Uhh, Billie Holiday.”

“Sounds fair. Any particular album?”

“Anythin’ that’s got her song ‘Yesterdays’.”

“Huh… okay then.”

As Angel scoured through more sets of vinyl records, Eric moved around and found the Jazz section of the store. There he found more records of different artists around. He looked around to find numerous albums for Billie Holiday. Eventually, he found an album cover in orange-brown color with a hole in the center displaying the record’s label. There he saw the name “Billie Holiday - Yesterdays”.

“Hey Angel, I found it!”

“You did?!”

Angel rushed over and looked over the album carefully, holding it with excitement.

“YES,” he cheered, “Thank you so much! This will make a great gift!”

“A gift? For who?”

“Oh, now I couldn’t ruin the surprise…”

Eric raised an eyebrow in suspicion.

Who would he be giving that record to?

“Anywho, I need to find something nice for Charlie as well. I’m sure she’d like a vinyl as well.”

“Anything in particular?”

“I dunno, somethin’ cheery and upliftin’, somethin’ that matches her personality.”

“Fair enough… I think I have an idea.”

The two went through the aisles to find something for Charlie.

“How about ‘The Sound of Music’?”

“Nah, she’s got the DVD or somethin’, rewatches that religiously… almost as much as Mary Poppins…”

The two continued to look for something suitable.

"How about the soundtrack to Moana?"

"...never heard of that one… I don't think she saw that yet…"

Once more, they continued their search. Until Eric found an album that caught his eye.

"How about this one? 'The Turtles - Happy Together'?"

Angel walked over and looked at the album. It was a standard single with a white background and a small image of the band below the text.

"Hmm… could be worth it… you know the song?"

"I think I heard it a few times," replied Eric, "might be right up her alley."

"Well, let's take a listen if we can."

The two walked up to the counter, as Eric looked at the pieces of instruments and old gramophone parts within the back wall. Angel rang the service bell several times, trying to get someone's attention. The sound of objects falling and clattering was heard from the other room.

"D'oh, damn it all! Hold on, I'll be right there!"

The two looked at each other in confusion as they heard the sounds of shuffling and objects shifting around nearby. They then saw a figure walk out in an old-fashioned outfit from the 1950s with a beige sweater and red skirt. But as the figure walked out, it had the features of a stoat, with fur that had a mix of brown and red colors while the eyes were bright red with white retinas and covered by a small pair of glasses. The hair was light brown and braided with pigtails.

"Oh hello there," greeted the figure, "I'm Melody, and welcome to my shop."

“Hey there,” greeted Angel, “and I was wonderin’ if we can take a listen to this for a little bit to see how it is.”

Melody adjusted her glasses as she was handed The Turtles album.

“Oh, this is a good song,” she said, “Sure, I’ll give you a brief sample to have a listen.”

She took the vinyl out of the album and placed it on a nearby record player, pulling the needle onto the disc itself. It took a short moment for the music to begin playing. It started with an electric guitar gently plucking its strings, then the drums kicked in and the singer began.

Imagine me and you, I do  
I think about you day and night, it's only right  
To think about the girl you love and hold her tight  
So happy together

Eric only smiled as the song played out, finally realizing the song itself. Angel merely chuckled as the song played out.

“Ohh man, this is corny,” he chuckled, “But I think she’ll like it.”

“Hey, it’s not so bad,” retorted Eric, “and I think she would love it.”

“Alright, let's get it for her."

Melody took the needle off of the record and placed the record back inside the album cover. Angel then handed her the Billie Holiday album as well.

"Could you do a gift wrap for this, please?"

"Would you like a tag for it as well," asked Melody.

"Yeah but leave it blank, I'll fill it out myself."

Melody nodded as she took some wrapping paper out and placed the album on top. She then took to wrapping it all up with lightning-fast speed. The album was all wrapped up in a dark red color scheme with black vinyl records all around, followed by a blank tag that read “To:” and “From:”.

"Oooooh, that looks perfect!"

"Alright, that's two vinyl records," said Melody as she punched in the register for the cost, "with one gift wrapped, that comes to $45 total. Although we have a sale today where you buy two vinyls you get one free."

"Mmm, I don't think I need any otha' records. How about you… Thurl?"

Eric thought for a short while but then shook his head gently, then pulled out his wallet and pulled out a fifty-dollar bill. Melody took the bill, punched in the register, and gave Eric five dollars back in change.

"Here's your change," she said as she handed the records over, "here are your records. Have a good day, even though we're in Hell."

Eric nodded as he stowed the records in the handbag.

"Thanks, toots! Come on, sexy, let's hit the road!"

Melody waved as the two left the store, Angel nearly running out happy as a clam. Eric followed behind while hoisting the handbag with the number of items inside. He felt a little bit better than he was earlier.

Maybe things won't be so bad today...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things seem safe for the moment, but things aren't so simple, are they?
> 
> UPDATE: I noticed I had posted this chapter twice inadvertently. I hadn't noticed until Energywitch left a comment on the copy of this chapter, which I found out to be a badly formatted version of the original chapter. How that happened, I have no idea. So, I deleted that chapter and still have this one intact. I appreciate those that inform me about any mistakes I may have made with my own work.
> 
> UPDATE: Forgot to mention that the guns mentioned that Eric takes are based on guns used in games and films I've seen. The shotgun he takes is the same shotgun used in Grand Theft Auto III and Max Payne 2, while the pistol he takes is based on one of the pistols used in Reservoir Dogs.


End file.
